


Petals in the Wind

by inkncoffee



Series: Percy Jackson and the Fairy Tale Collection [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Thumbelina Fusion, Dismal Lack of Moral Content, Fairy Tale Spoof, Friendship, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Unwanted Marriage Proposals, apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkncoffee/pseuds/inkncoffee
Summary: I don't want to get married, I want to stay single and let my hair flow in the wind as I ride through the glen firing arrows into the sunset.

 
Wrong fairy tale, but the sentiment is more or less the same . . . except Percy just wants to get back to his mom and if they made bows and arrows his size, he'd probably still suck at it. But, you know, it's the sentiment that counts.





	1. Seed

To say time had not been kind to Sally Jackson would be at once true and all the same rather misleading; time was not kind on anybody in those times. Nonetheless, Sally Jackson was granted no exception to the cruelties and harshness of her time. Deprived of her parents at a young age, those beloved young souls winked out by the ominous black disease that spread like wildfire through the villages and towns of near and far, and living under the destitution of her cruel uncle, Sally was a rarely beautiful soul in a world of brevity and darkness. Barefoot and clothed in the thin rags of her childhood, the seventeen-year-old Sally watched as her uncle left for town one morning to never return. She waited one week, which turned into two, which turned into an entire summer before her ever watchful eyes.

That he wasn't coming back she understood perfectly clear, but she slipped on her mother's old coat, the best article of clothing they owned in all its patchwork and tattered glory, and undertook the two day walk into town to learn what she already knew. The village did not greet her kindly. The black disease that took her parents also claimed the lives of more than half of the village and her appearance was met with unhampered suspicion.

"They got sick first," could be heard in the whispers that followed her steps.

"They brought it here."

"How did she survive?"

 _"Witch._ "

Sally pulled her coat tighter around her, her heart and stomach empty. Her uncle was gone, although a revelation this discovery hardly was. No, it was not the disappearance of her only kin that saddened Sally Jackson, rather the dark and mistrustful looks of the village she could never call home. As quietly as she came, Sally began the trip back to the little farm house she supposed was her own now.

"Somebody's far from home."

"Mothers," Sally greeted kindly, dipping her head respectively when she stumbled upon the small group of travelers just outside the village.

The three ladies that stood before her were no random travelers or vagabonds, rather the three collectively known as and called the Grey Sisters. If they had individual names Sally knew not, nor did she believe the sisters themselves remembered. Witches, the villagers called them too, but behind closed doors under the cloak of night for those who insulted the Grey Sisters rarely breathed for long and death followed their careful, slow tread.

If the sisters had names, Sally mused, it wouldn't matter much anyway for they looked identical. Shriveled up faces hide their eyes, although sometimes Sally thought she caught a glimpse of a singular eye before it disappeared behind a wrinkled forehead again. Only one spoke at a time, each with only one remaining tooth that seemed to always draw the listener's attention.

"You are far from home, child," the middle sister said.

"Your uncle is dead," the third said.

"The villagers have forsaken you," said the first.

Sally could only smile sadly at the trio. "Yes," she agreed simply.

"How will you survive?"

"Oh, I will survive as I always have done," Sally assured them with a tired smile. "My chicken still lays eggs and a wild rooster will one day find her and make one fertile I am sure. I have the farm and the seeds of my uncle's garden and for only one person, myself, there shall always be plenty."

The third sister nodded but it was the middle one who spoke, "Of physical survival, we speak not of."

"You are strong, little one," the first agreed.

"But lonely," the third threw in.

"I'm afraid not much will change that," Sally sadly replied. "Unless perhaps a lost traveler stumbles upon my door."

It was a feeble and foolish hope, one that didn't bring Sally any cheer or real substances but she smiled all the same because to do otherwise was to give up. The sisters stared at her and Sally tolerated it, eager for any kind of social interaction, even if it was uncomfortable and her companions may not be entirely human.

"Here dear—"

"—plant this seed—"

"—and wait for it to grow—"

"—water it—"

"—care for it—"

"—and it shall bring to you what you desire."

The third sister reached her slightest trembling hand out, a single brown seed in the palm of her hand. Sally knew better than to refuse and she politely reached forward to take the seed. She smiled politely and gave her thanks, turning the little seed over in her hand. It was an oval shaped seed, a rich brown in color except for the tip, which was brushed with white. She'd never seen anything like it and as she turned it over in her palm, couldn't decide what kind of seed it was.

"Thank you, I shall take good care of it," Sally promised, closing her fingers around the little seed.

The Grey Sisters smiled.

"We—"

"—know—"

"—dear."

They walked on after that, side by side in a slow, careful rhythm as they continued down the dusty road. Sally watched them go for a moment, wondering sadly when she would see people again, before continuing on her own way. The farm house waited quietly for her under the pale light of the rising sun and Sally smiled wanly as it came into view.

Sally planted the seed in clear view of her window. She picked a nice spot, carefully weeding and tilling the little plot in preparation for whatever the seed might yield. It was a sunny spot, but it had enough shelter if the sun grew too hot.

"The Sisters say you shall bring me what I desire," Sally told the seed as she gently covered it with dirt. "I've seen enough shadows and heard enough whispers in the night to trust in what they say. I don't know what I desire most, little seed, save to not be alone anymore. Grow tall and strong little one, I shall watch over you."

And so she did. She kept the plot carefully groomed and cared for as the year waned on, safe from the cold of the winter and the rain of the spring, in the heat of the sun and the dryness of drought Sally cared for the not yet blossomed seed. It wasn't until two seasons after she planted the seed, when the rain of the spring was coming to an end, that it began to sprout. A little curl of green starting pushing its way passed the soil, reaching its tiny limb towards the sky. A single stalk grew out of the ground until it stopped, standing proud halfway the length up Sally's shin. There it stayed until summer began to call—and then a bud appeared.

"A flower," Sally realized, grinning widely as she knelt down to inspect the little spot of color. "You're a flower!"

Sally was delighted. She didn't have the time or resources to grow flowers on her own and the wildflowers never bloomed near her home.

"Hope," she told the little flower fondly as she gently ran the back of her thumb over the tiny little bud. "You are my hope, little one."

"Oh you're blue," she said in delight the next morning.

"My how big you've grown," she sighed the following.

"I can't wait until you bloom," she confided the next still.

Then, seven days after the bud appeared, Sally came out one morning to find the flower had finally bloomed. She dropped the bucket of chicken feed in surprise, carelessly letting the feed scatter across the ground as she raced off in excitement, coming to her knees beside the flower to stare down in wonder. The flower must have blossomed overnight, the bud bursting open to reveal five beautiful petals, all the same ocean blue as the bud was, a thin line of green running down the center of each one. And in the center, curled up tightly was—

Sally blinked, her mouth falling open as she stared in shock.

"Oh!" She couldn't help but exclaim.

The little creature inside her flower twitched, turning over to blink up at the woman. It was . . . well, it looked exactly like a human child, diminutive size notwithstanding. The minuscule child stared up at her before his tiny face broke into a wide smile.

"Mom," he declared, reaching up towards her.

"Mom?" Sally repeated shakenly but, without even thinking, she held her hand out and the impossibly small child happily climbed into it, making vague voices of joy.

"Mom!" The child repeated, plopping down in the palm of her hand and smiling up at her as though she were the most amazing thing in the entire world.

 _It shall bring to you what you desire_. Sally giggled a little, a slightly hysterical sound that she hastily swallowed back. She didn't know she desired an impossibly small child but, as the thought came to her, she examined the little being in her hand.

The child sat with his knees pulled to his chest, head tilted up towards her. He was a cute little thing, who appeared, once more his size notwithstanding, to probably be around twelve. He had a little mop of pitch black hair that fell messily around his face but what struck Sally the most were his eyes. They were large, well large in comparison with his face because combined they were probably still smaller than the nail on her pinky. But oh were they bright, full of life and love and laughter in that beautiful emerald color that blessed his irises.

"Mom?" He repeated, his smile faltering as his eyes grew fearful.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sally said, her throat constricting, "Oh I'm just so happy to finally meet you."

Her son smiled again, visibly relaxing. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting! I'm happy to see you too!"

And with that he launched himself forward and threw his little arms around her thumb, hugging it tight. Sally gave a watery laugh, cradling the hand close as she hiccupped and cried.

"Oh, Mom don't cry!" The beautiful, little voice objected.

Sally laughed, leaning down to kiss the little head the best she could and she knew in that moment that the Grey Sisters were right; the flower gave her _exactly_ what she desired. It didn't matter that her son was tiny or born from a flower instead of her own womb—he was hers and Sally Jackson loved him more than she ever knew was possible.

Sally named her son Perseus, after the vague recollection of a story she once heard about a great hero but, after a week or so, as he tripped over the name and learned more about this strange new world of his, he declared he'd rather be called Percy.

"Of course dear," Sally indulged and so Percy he was called.

Learning to live with Percy was a new and exciting experience. Sally was used to living on her own after all. Percy greeted each day with excitement and enthusiasm, a sweet and innocent wonder that made Sally feel younger and happier with every passing day. And then, of course, there was Percy's unique size to consider. If Percy thought there was anything odd about how he was barely larger than his mother's thumb, he never said. Then again, he didn't know anything else existed to compare it to, Sally mused, so perhaps it was only strange to her.

In the end, it didn't matter. Sally had Percy now and she couldn't be any happier.

 

 

 

 

 

"Ah, I can't believe it's almost your birthday," Sally said wistfully, stirring their breakfast with one hand as she gazed lovingly out the kitchen window where, just barely in sight, Percy's flower could be found.

Percy, perched happily on his mother's shoulder as he swung his feet back and forth, always careful not to accidently hit Sally's collarbone (because doing that hurt a lot but it was mostly okay because it only hurt him and not his mom) craned his head to try and catch a glimpse of the place he was born.

"Yeah," Percy automatically agreed then frowned as he swiveled his head up, "I'll be thirteen right?"

"Well, more or less," Sally agreed. "Watch it, dear, I'm going to reach."

Percy appropriately braced himself, reaching out to grab onto the little pieces of fabric Sally sewed onto her shirt for exactly this purpose as Sally reached her arm out to grab their bowls.

"Why did I start at twelve and not at zero?" Percy asked for what had to be the hundredth time.

"Because you're special," came the even and ever faithful response as she gently picked his bowl up on the tip of her finger before moving her hand back to offer it to him.

Percy took it with both hands, wrinkling his nose. "Special's just a nice way of saying _weird,_ " he grumbled as he shuffled his bowl around.

It was a nice bowl, one he made himself. Of course, there wasn't exactly anybody else around to make it _for_ him. Mom tried, especially in the beginning, but her hands were just too large and the work so fine. When it was obvious that wasn't going to work, she taught Percy how to weave. He watched her as she wove her large pieces together and tried to mimic her actions with pieces of grass he plucked from the ground. Several horrible attempts and a few temper tantrums later, he had a working set of dishware that he was insanely proud of.

Hey, it was cool okay? He _made_ them.

"Special's a nice way of saying _special_ ," Sally nonsensically replied, reaching her bare hand up.

Percy, knowing what she wanted, scrambled to his feet, untying the loose string from his mother's shirt from around his waist and jumped onto her outstretched hand. He landed with an ' _uff_ ' and barely managed to keep himself upright, trying to play it cool and keep his face straight like he didn't just almost face plant into his mom's ring finger.

Sally smiled warmly down at him and Percy felt his dark mood all but evaporate. It was _impossible_ to be anything other than happy when his mom was smiling.

"Do you remember the story of the Grey Sisters and the seed?" Sally asked warmly and Percy groaned, sitting in the palm of her hand.

" _Yes,_ " Percy groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You've only told it like a thousand times."

"And I'll tell it a thousand more if it means getting you to understand what an amazing miracle you are," Sally said fondly. "Now, I have to go feed the chicken before she gets angry. Do you want to start breakfast?"

"No I'll wait," Percy said and Sally lowered him towards the counter. Percy hopped off her hand, being sure to tuck his bowl away in a careful resting place as Sally put a cover on their oats.

"I'll be right back," Sally said, kissing her forefinger before holding it out to Percy.

"I'll be right here," Percy dutifully replied, letting her press the kissed finger against his cheek and pretending like he didn't lean into the gesture.

Sally probably noticed anyway but she said nothing, smiling gently down at her son before gathering her apron together and heading out the door. Percy scampered up the windowsill, grunting with the effort it took to jump high enough to grab on and then the strength it took to pull himself up. He was panting by the time he collapsed onto the windowsill, leaning against the edge of the wall just in time to watch Sally disappear around the corner of the house. Percy slumped further in his spot, sighing loudly. It always seemed to take her _forever_ to feed the chicken and _no_ that wasn't the boredom talking.

Percy forced himself to his feet, looking around the giant kitchen. He stared at the bubbling pot of oats beneath him, careful not to lean too far over least he accidently fall in. That happened once before; it wasn't fun. It burned and oh there was just so many oats and he thought he was going to drown before Sally scooped him out. He shuddered at the memory, grimacing to himself as he shook his head and took a step backward.

"Whoa!" Percy exclaimed in surprise, arms windmilling as he slipped on the dew that gathered at the edge of the window.

He tried to reach for something to grab on to but it didn't matter because he was falling, the world tilting sickeningly as the kitchen was replacing with the sky and the sky spun and suddenly all he saw was green and then—

"Ow!" Percy complained, tucking himself tightly into a ball as if it would somehow retroactively protective him from the fall.

"Ow," he repeated, shaking his head and staring blankly at the dirt beneath his nose. He peeked up, turning to gawk at the broken branches of the bush above him and, above them, the window.

"Oh that could've been bad," Percy thought out loud, wincing as he uncurled himself. "It's a good thing those bushes helped break my fall."

He flexed his right arm, which was a little stiff around the elbow but otherwise seemingly uninjured, and then proceeded to take careful stock of the rest of his limbs, muttering to himself all the while, "Oh Mom's gonna be so mad at me, she's always telling me to be careful, gotta get back up there before she—"

A rustling sound caused his head to snap up, body tensing as he looked around. As his eyes warily panned across his surrounds, a lurch in the shadow caught his attention and he jerked around, not quite fast enough and hey—!

"Get off of me!" Percy exclaimed, violently thrashing as a heavy body settled on top his own. "Hey!"

"What is this?" The creature croaked and Percy found himself scowling up at a large, ugly toad.

The toad was almost twice his size, quite squat around the middle where its gross bump-covered skin bulged out at. Dark browns and greens camouflaged its body and around the eyes, little rings of black could be found. Its bottom jaw puffed out as it tilting its head to survey him.

"What kind of creature are _you_?" The toad asked in confusion.

Percy scowled harder at the irritating amphibian. "Not food, now get off of me before I, hey—"

The toad butted its nose against his chest, cutting his words off. "Very pretty," the toad mused. "It is very pretty and lively."

"Hey now!" He exclaimed angrily, not sure what the toad was getting at.

"It will make a good match for my children," the toad decided, blinking its eyes before opening its mouth wide and clamping down on his arm.

"No, hey, let me go!" Percy objected, twisting violently around and almost able to wrench his arm free from the slippery, toothless grip when the toad jerked him to the side, tossing him aside.

Percy only had a moment of relief before he collided with a rock and everything went dark.

When he woke up again it was to the sound of strange, croaking voices;

"What is it, Mom?"

A low gurgle and then—"I don't know, but it's very pretty and rather small. It probably won't eat much, just a couple snails or flies."

 _Snails and flies? Ew_ , Percy thought, prying his eyes open and groaning. His head hurt awfully, like he banged it against Sally's collarbone or worse, the edge of the windowsill. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, trying to make everything stop hurting so much and maybe he would open his eyes and everything would make sense, Sally would laugh and smile, it would be okay—

Three big ugly toads blinked down at him.

Percy blinked back.

Then he exclaimed, "Ahh!" and tried to back away as quickly as he could. His back hit something squishy and soft and his head whipped around, staring at the small, dark place he was in. He backed into something spongy and green, leaning on it made water drain out so he yelped and pulled away, frantically looking around the space.

It was a cave of some sort, or a shallow, or _something_ underground-ish.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Percy demanded, proud of how little his voice shook as he glared at the three toads. He recognized the middle one as the toad that attacked him at the house and tried to give it his best stink eye.

"You're at your new home," the middle toad croaked, "I am Leto, these are my children Apollo and Artemis."

The other two toads were lighter in coloring than their mother. At the introduction, the left most toad grinned, puffing its chest up. This one was an almost golden brown with a large yellow spot between its eyes. The other one, on the right, eyed Percy almost disinterestedly, practically identical to their sibling except the large spot between this one's eyes was silver.

"I'm Apollo!" The yellow spotted toad announced. "The boring one is my sister Artemis."

Artemis huffed, not looking amused.

Percy ignored them, gaping at the mother instead. "What do you mean my _new home?_ I have a home! A perfectly good home! And I have my own mom, who is probably worried sick—"

"New home," Leto repeated, speaking over him. "Until one of my children builds their own home, then that will be your new, new home. Now go ahead you two, which one of you would like it?"

"I'm never getting married," Artemis declared venomously, turning to the side and giving an indignant sort of croak. "Ever. Apollo can marry it, whatever it is."

"What do you mean whatever it is?" Percy repeated, insulted. "Can't you see I'm a boy?"

Then her words hit him and he gasped, recoiling as he stared at the remaining two toads in horror, "Marriage? I don't want to get married! I'm not even thirteen!"

"I've never heard of a boy before. But thirteen?" Leto repeated, "hm, it's older than I thought. Still, very pretty. Do you want to marry it Apollo?"

Apollo blinked his golden eyes down at Percy, who squawked indignantly. "It's not a toad," he said slowly.

"No it's a boy, whatever that is," Leto agreed. "But it will make your home beautiful and be there for you when you return from hunting and maybe tell you a story or two."

"I would trash your home, run away every chance I get and maybe give you a punch or two," Percy venomously countered, stomping his feet. "I'm not marrying anybody! I'm going home to my mom!"

"It's very pretty," Apollo mused. "And something that will appreciate my poetry."

"Not even the deaf appreciate your poetry," Artemis snidely grumbled.

"Mom! Did you hear that? I _told_ you she's always being mean to me!"

"Mom, have you heard his poetry? Why must we have to _suffer_ through that?"

The toads dissolved into bickering and croaking as Percy watched with wide eyes. They didn't seem to be paying him much mind anymore so he took a step to the side. Nobody noticed so he took another, and then, when nobody tried to stop him, sprinted to the end of the tunnel.

"Ah!" Percy cried, backpedaling as he reached the end and the ground suddenly stopped.

He was up some place high and below the mouth of the cave was a fierce, roaring river. Percy gaped in horror. He'd never seen a river before. Sure, Sally told him about them but the most water he'd ever seen was the water that his mother used to clean and water the plants with. He didn't even know this much water _existed._ Maybe it was actually an ocean, he thought, staring out with wide eyes. It certainly seemed big enough. Behind him, the toads were still arguing.

"Okay, okay," Percy said to himself, looking frantically around. "I can't swim soooo . . . I'll climb out. Yeah, that's a good plan."

Perfect. Now all he needed was something to climb out _with._ Percy looked around. Aside from the three bickering toads, there wasn't much else in the cave. Some of the spongy green stuff, dirt, the wings of various insects that he pretended not to notice. Nothing _useful_ though. Percy walked out to the edge of the cave again, gingering feeling around the edge for grass or roots or anything that he could use.

The dirt at the edge of the cave was practically black, fully saturated with water from the torrent below. Percy took a step forward, wincing as little clumps of dirt crumbled away and plumped into the river below. Yikes. Trying to distribute his weight carefully, Percy crept along the mouth of the cave. Maybe there was grass growing just outside the cave he could grab onto. He put his right foot forward, leaning into the motion and—

"Oh be careful."

Percy jerked himself backward in alarm, in part due to the fact that the ground beneath his feet was disintegrating away and threatening to plummet him into the wild river below and in part due to the sudden voice that called from the sky. He automatically crouched low, tensing as something large and bright fluttering before him. He blinked in surprise as he got his first, real good look at the creature.

It was a butterfly, a big, beautiful butterfly. Her wings were great and impressive, a stunning marble of every color imaginable in gorgeous swirling patterns as they strongly fluttered in the wind.

"Are you lost, little one?" The butterfly asked fretfully, drawing closer to the edge of the cave.

" _Yes,_ " Percy stressed then shook his head, throwing a looking over his shoulder. "Well I mean—these crazy toads kidnapped me and they want to _marry_ me. I need to get home to my mom."

"Oh dear," the butterfly worried, sounding awfully kind and sweet and it reminded Percy a little of his mother. "Yes I understand dear one, you do not wish to marry these ugly toads."

"I do not wish to marry _anybody,_ " Percy huffed, "I'm not yet thirteen." Then, staring up with hopeful eyes, asked, "Do you think you could get me a piece of grass or something to use as a rope?"

"Dear one I can do you one better, here stand back," the butterfly instructed and Percy scrambled back.

The beautiful butterfly gave one pump of her great wings and landed softly on the outskirt of the cave.

"Climb onto my back, sweet one, and I shall carry you somewhere safe," she promised.

"Really? Oh, that'd be awesome," Percy said, "Thanks!"

He lurked forward and the butterfly lowered herself to the ground, lying flat. Trying to be gentle and careful of her wings, Percy climbed onto her back, gingerly situating his legs around her wings.

"Hey, what should I call you?" The yellow spotted toad, Apollo, called suddenly, turning around to shout down at Percy. He froze as he realized what was happening, croaking in surprise.

"Gone!" Percy gleefully shouted back, sticking out his tongue for extra (if slightly childish) effect. With that announcement, his carrier spread her wings and nimbly took to the sky, her passenger whooping with joy.

"Hey wait, my boy!" Apollo cried in distress, his gross croaking growing weaker and weaker as they soared away. "Mom, my boy!"

"Come back!"

Percy threw his head back and laughed, watching as the toads faded from sight as his kind butterfly glided on the breeze, carrying them further and further away from the mean amphibians.

"I'm Percy, by the way," Percy introduced, leaning forward to properly greet his rescuer.

"I'm Psyche," came the melodious reply. "And most happy to be of service little one. Now, let's get you home to your mother. I image she is quite worried."

Percy frowned, squirming a little at the uncomfortable thought. He hated it when Sally worried. "Yeah, she will be."

"Where is home, Percy?"

"It's—" Percy said, only to falter, unsure.

Where _was_ home? He knew home was a giant house, with four giant rooms and a field he couldn't even walk across in a day. Home had a blue flower and the chicken coop for one, but _where_ was home? Percy wasn't sure how to answer that. He'd never been farther than the chicken coop before, and that was only when Sally carried him.

"It's a house," Percy said. "A big house, with a chicken coop and a blue flower. My mom and I live there alone. I've . . . I've never left there before. I don't know where I am."

Percy looked around with a frown. Psyche cruised over the river and, peering down at it, Percy marveled at the giant expansive of rushing water. There was so _much_ of it, he thought in wonder. And the _trees_ around them. He knew there was a forest just beyond the house, he could see them after all, but he didn't know how many _trees_ there really were.

It would be real cool, Percy thought, to explore it all. So many new things to see! He shook his head, pushing the thought away. Some other time, Sally had to be worried sick about now. He needed to make sure his mom was okay before he went on any adventures. Maybe she could go with him, that sounded fun.

"That's not much to go on," Psyche mused. "But Leto couldn't have carried you far. Toads never stray too far from their homes, especially Leto, who worries so about her children. I'm sure we can find your home and your mom."

"That sounds good," Percy agreed, nodding even though Psyche couldn't see it.

"Do you have a mom?" Percy asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He didn't know much about butterflies. He would often see them visit his flower but they never stuck around for long and he could never remember actually talking to one before.

"I'm sure I do, somewhere," Psyche said as they glided over the river, little sprays of water brushing against Percy's face. "But I don't know her. She laid me and my siblings on the underbelly of a leaf and when I hatched, that was it. We're not close-knit, us butterflies. It's rather hard after all. We can't fly when we're babies."

"You can't?"

"No. Baby butterfly are called caterpillars and we—"

Psyche went on to explain how she was born (it was a nice tree, Psyche remembered, large and beautiful but the leaf she hatched on was the best in the whole forest). She had lots of siblings so she had to move out pretty quick and find her own spot. Caterpillars needed lots of food to form their chrysalis, whatever that was.

"Oh, that's neat," Percy said, nodding along even though the butterfly couldn't see it. "I was born in a flower."

"A flower?"

"Yeah, my mom said when my flower bloomed there I was, curled up in the middle."

"How peculiar, I didn't know that's how boys were born," the butterfly mused. "Hold on dear, branches ahead."

Percy leaned forward and held on tight as Psyche elegantly dipped low to fly between two branches that hung low over the river.

"I suppose I rather thoughts boys—" Psyche said when suddenly they lurched to a stop, the butterfly's words cutting off sharply with a cry.

Percy found himself being thrown from the butterfly's back and he didn't have the time to understand what was happening before he was floundering in the air, desperately trying to grab onto something as he tumbled towards the water below, and oh the bottom branch! He managed to catch himself on a twig of the branch, the impact knocking the air clean out of his lung as he crashed into it. Winded, black spots dancing before his eyes, Percy clung on, dazed.

"Psyche?" He finally managed to call, breathlessly, "Psyche?"

"Percy? Oh dear little one, pull yourself up."

"Right, right," Percy gasped, a little more focused on getting oxygen at the moment. He took a deep breath, then another, shaking his head as he tried to focus.

The river roared below him, a rather terrifying incentive to pull himself up from where he dangled listlessly. His legs kicked uselessly in the air, arms wound tightly around the twig, the only thing keeping him from falling.

"Alright, alright," Percy muttered, more to himself than his worried companion. He tightened his arms and started to pull himself up.

"Oh boy, oh god," he groaned, arms trembling from the effort as he hauled himself up, legs kicking vainly in the air as he _pulled._ Inch by painful inch, shoulders screaming in pain, he forced his body upwards. His upper body felt like it was on fire, muscles trembling as he huffed and puffed.

"I got it, I got it," he panted, daring to reach one arm out to claw at the bark.

He got a good grip and grabbed on tight, pulling himself the rest of the way up, finally getting leverage with his feet so his whole body was safely on the branch. He collapsed onto the rough bark, gasping and trembling from the exertion.

"I'm okay," he called, turning onto his stomach and taking another deep, calming breath. _Oh geez,_ he thought, blanching slightly as he stared at the rushing water just below. Wow, that was a close call. All that water right below him, he certainly would have drowned if he fell in.

"You okay Psyche?" He called, letting his head fall on the branch as he tried to calm his racing heart and relax his overtaxed muscles. His shoulders burned angrily but he valiantly ignored them.

"I'm afraid not dear."

Percy frowned and, with a grunt of exertion and pain, flipped himself over to search for the butterfly. He didn't have to search for long; Psyche was suspended above his head, her beautiful wings twisted up in—Percy gasped in horror—a _spider's web._

The web was gigantic, easily spanning across the river. The webbing was thick and gross, little globs of sticky whatever shimmering in the sunlight. The stuff had completely wrapped around poor Psyche's beautiful but delicate wings, holding the butterfly fast in its terrible web. Psyche thrashed around, causing little strands of the web to tear lose.

"I'm caught pretty good, little one," the butterfly called and despite her best effort, her voice betrayed her anxiety. "The spider that built this web shan't be far behind."

"It's okay, we can get you free," Percy said quickly, scrambling to his feet, sore muscles ignored in favor of concern for his new friend, as his eyes frantically scanned the edge of the web. He couldn't see the spider and one didn't come running out at Psyche's arrival so that was good.

"Don't worry Psyche I'm coming up!" Percy called, running along the edge of the branch.

"Be careful dear, I'll keep trying to tear free. I'm just afraid of falling, because my wings are caught and . . ."

Percy looked down at the rushing water below. If Psyche tore herself free from the web but her wings were still tied together she wouldn't be able to fly and she'd drown.

"Okay, don't worry, I'm coming," Percy promised.

He ran down to the edge of the branch where the end melded into the tree trunk. It took a while to run the entire length and he could barely hear Psyche when he reached it. He paused at the end, gasping as he hunched over, leaning against the rough bark of the tree to catch his breath. Oh god were his muscles ever going to ache in the morning.

 _Need something sharp,_ Percy thought, frantically looking around. Something to cut Psyche's wings free with before getting her out of the web. He reached forward and dug his fingers into the bark of the tree.

"Ow," he muttered as he clutched the bark, the sharp edges slicing his fingers open but Percy didn't care, having bigger worries on his mind.

 _W_ _ait a minute,_ he thought, flexing the injured finger. That was exactly what he _needed_. He wiggled his fingers until they were completely under a loose piece of bark, curling them as far under as he could before wrenching the piece away. The bark broke off in his hand, the edge jagged. Percy experimentally ran his finger over it. Would that be tough enough to cut Psyche free? He hoped so. Tucking the bark safely away under his shirt, Percy glanced back out at the web. Psyche had stopped struggling, one of her wings tore free from the webbing but still tightly bound. She would be in serious danger of falling if she moved anymore.

"I'm coming Psyche!" Percy shouted.

He eyed the distance between himself and the next branch on the tree. It was almost twice his own height.

"I'm coming Psyche," Percy repeated determinedly to himself, throwing his arms around the tree and searching for any sort of grip to pull himself up with.

It was slow work climbing up to the next branch. He had to tear bark away, letting the pieces float down to the forest floor as he gouged out spots for his hands and feet. He slipped once, falling back down to the first branch with an ' _hmph'_ and a subsequently bruised posterior but he immediately scrambled back to his feet and started again. Psyche was _counting_ on him. She saved him, now he had to save her. He was panting and perspiring heavily by the time his jelly arms pulled him onto the higher branch. His entire body ached from the exertion of the day. He blew out a long breath, giving himself a quick second to catch his breath as he patted himself down for the bark-knife. Oh good, he still had it.

"Almost there," Percy shouted, his voice coming out a little breathless.

The spider web anchored itself to this branch. Percy approached the sticky mess, eyeing it cautiously as he crept closer. There weren't many spider webs around at home. Sally kept an eagle eye out for such hazards, always watchful and careful of her son's diminutive size. Percy put his foot on one of the strands. The web trembled, the line buzzing from the place Percy put pressure on all the way to the end. In the distance Psyche bobbed. Percy winced.

 _Careful,_ he reminded himself, scowling, he had to be careful. Percy put his full weight on the strand. When nothing more happened then a trembling spider web, he took a step forward.

He waited with bated breath, eyes wide. The web vibrated but held his weight. _Of course, it'll hold your weight_ , Percy scolded himself as he took another ginger step forward. It held Psyche's weight and could withstand the fierce wind of the river. Percy weighed nothing compared to that. Careful to keep his arms and knees away from the sticky strands, Percy began to walk across the web.

"Be careful," Psyche whispered, her voice barely carrying on the breeze.

"I got it," Percy whispered back.

They said nothing more as he crept along the web, one slow step at a time. The web was shaking violently at this point and each tremor had Percy wincing, knowing the spider had to be around somewhere and heading right for them.

 _Maybe it has other webs to tend to,_ Percy thought desperately. _Or it fell into the river._

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Percy reached Psyche's side. He smiled bravely at the butterfly, who blew out a soft breath.

"Alright," Percy whispered, staring at her web-encased wings. "How should I do this?"

"See the wing that is almost loose from the web?" Psyche whispered back, "Get all the webbing off it first."

"Got it, good plan," Percy hissed, pulling out his bark-knife.

Making sure to take great care, Percy began to saw away at the sticky stuff encasing her right most wing. The stuff stuck to his fingers, threatening to glue them together and Percy frequently had to stop, cursing under his breath, to use the knife to cut his own fingers free.

"Aha!" Percy exclaimed victoriously, sweat dripping down his arms and muscles aching but grinning victoriously. "One wing free!"

"Thank you, thank you," Psyche whispered feverously. "The next one now and we can go find your mom."

"Got it," Percy said, grinning broadly, his chest puffed up with pride. He shuffled around, maneuvering around the butterfly to reach her other wing.

His head was bowed, sawing away at Psyche's bonds when he heard it. At first, he thought it was the breeze, a light little hiss drawing across the strings of the web, but then Psyche gasped in horror and he looked up.

" _The spider!"_ Psyche gasped in despair.

At the edge of the web, where Percy started out at what felt like a forever ago, was a large black body rapidly crawling towards them, cackling and hissing all the while.

"What have we here, what have we here, a butterfly for me?" The spider sang as its eight legs propelled it forward with frightening speed.

"Go Percy, go, hurry!" Psyche cried. "You can't save me, it's too late, run little one, go find your mom."

Percy's mind froze, staring at the horrifying spider in dismay. Psyche frantically urged him to run, to get away while he still could but he couldn't _leave_ her. Percy's eyes flickered down to the branch below them, the one he had fallen on when he was thrown from Psyche's back, and he had an idea.

"Psyche, see that branch below?" Percy demanded urgently, sawing feverously away at her bonds as the spider sang her terrible song and drew closer.

"Yes, yes jump down there."

"I'm going to cut your wing loose," Percy pressed urgently, "do you think you could fall onto that branch?"

"I—I," the butterfly fluttered beneath him. "Yes, yes I could do that Percy, that's a great idea, hurry, hurry little one."

Percy cut through the last layer of the web and Psyche fell loose from its bond, her one freed wing beating frantically as she spiraled down. Percy didn't have the time to watch, to make sure she made it, oh please make it, oh please—he tensing his legs, jumping, but he never made it.

"Ah!" Percy cried as something sticky thwacked against his back, jerking him backward out of his leap. Percy collided heavily with the web, his arms and legs becoming entangled as he unconsciously struggled against the attack.

"Psyche!" He cried in distress but black was all he saw.

Heart hammering in his chest, Percy stared at the great spider that grinning evilly down at him, all eight eyes sparkling with hunger and dark humor.

"Well, well, well what do we have here?" The spider hissed in delight, its terrible mouth opening and revealing two long, dangerously glistening fangs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this. I blame Hans Christian Anderson; Thumbelina was partly inspired by his own dismal love life and condemned by critics for its 'dismal lack of moral content'. Bless.
> 
> On another note: Percy's roughly the size of the average person's thumb so more or less 2.75 inches (between 7 and 7.5 cm). The largest butterfly in the world can get up to 25 cm, so a thumb-size person could definitely fit on their back and even some of the smaller large butterflies could hold him. Spider webs do catch butterflies but they generally don't leave the butterfly alone for as long as I did here because of the destruction their wings cause to the web. They either cut them lose or eat the poor critter right then. I plead creative license for my embellishment.


	2. Sprout

"What is it?" The spider hissed, drawing its face closer to Percy's.

If Percy weren't so terrified, his heart hammering painfully in his chest, he would be offended. Again. Honestly, that was _twice_ on the same day something didn't know what he was. As it were, Percy figured there were more important things to worry about at the moment, like the terrifying, large spider that wanted to eat him.

He swallowed as the spider's fangs brushed against the side of his face, willing himself to stop trembling.

"Not very tasty," he valiantly tried, very careful not to turn his face least its fangs cut him. "Seriously, I'm gross. All chewy and sour and very lacking in nutrition. Honestly, for your own good you should probably cut me loose."

The spider hissed, its many legs tapping the web around Percy's trapped body. He tried not to shudder, know that would only entangle him deeper in the deadly web.

"Not a butterfly," the spider mused, one of its legs sharply whacking against his side. Percy yelped as the little hairs on the leg poke his side, not expecting them to be so sharp and deadly.

"Not a fly or a bug either," the spider continued, talking to itself as it examined him, shuffling to the side as though trying to get a better look at him.

"I'm a hassle," Percy tried again, discreetly trying to move his hands from where they were pinned behind his back. Maybe the bark-knife was still within his reach. "And this is just a big misunderstanding, so why don't we just—"

"Loud thing isn't it?" The spider muttered, pulling back so he was once more under the severe and frankly horrifying gaze of all eight eyes. They blinked irregularly, not all at once in a grotesque, out of sync display as the spider thought. "But it has very pretty markings, black and green, hm yes very pretty."

"What?" Percy asked, halting his search to gape, horrified, up at the spider. "I'm not a spider either!"

"No I eat spiders," the spider muttered to Percy's growing horror. Oh god, what kind of web did they unwittingly stumble upon? "Nasty cocky things. Think they weave better than me. Ha. No, Arachne is the best weaver of all time. Don't need a stupid mate either. Terrible things, noisy and greedy and disturb web. Don't eat them though, leave them for the babies."

"Babies?" Percy repeated in horror.

"Not right season now," came the muttered response. The spider seemed deep in thought, staring at Percy.

Percy swallowed nervously, unnerved by the unwavering attention, "So, ah . . . is your name Arachne?"

"Yes," Arachne said shortly. "I am Arachne, best weaver in all the world, and I will keep you." Percy sputtered in horror and disbelief but the spider kept talking as she pulled back, three of her legs making quick work of untying Percy from her web. "Yes. Good mate you will make. Very pretty. My web is the most beautiful web in all the world and it deserves to be adorned with pretty things. And you cannot weave, so you will not disturb my beautiful web. Yes, it is decided."

"Oh god, can't you just threaten to eat me?" Percy complained, which may have been a dangerous thing to say seeing as her long, spindling legs were very close to all his vital organs but frankly that was better than what the spider was suggesting.

"Be grateful," the spider scolded, one leg reaching out to sharply tap him on the nose. Percy couldn't help recoiling, startled. "Not only am I letting you live, I'm letting you stay with _me_ on my beautiful web."

"Oh yes very grateful," Percy muttered underneath his breath.

"There," Arachne said as she cut one last strand of webbing, shuffling back so Percy could finish detaching himself from the web. Percy happily tore the tattered remains of the web off his body, watching as they lazily floated down towards the water below.

Trying to be discreet, Percy peered around the spider at the branch below. He could see the colorful spirals of Psyche's wings and his heart soared with relief. The butterfly landed on the branch! She was safe! As if sensing his gaze, Psyche turned, her left wing still firmly glued shut by webbing. She looked pained and frightened.

_I'm okay,_ Percy wanted to say, but he didn't dare bring Arachne's attention back to the butterfly. Instead, he pointedly looked away, forcing himself to face Arachne again. The spider looked quite smug with herself.

"Ah," Percy said rather lost. "Well, I'm Percy."

"I shall call you Pretty One."

Percy scowled. "I have a _name,_ I literally just told you it. I'm _Percy_."

"Quiet Pretty One," Arachne dismissed, shuffling around. "I need to fix the web. Stupid butterfly broke it. My poor, beautiful design."

The spider hissed unhappily, reaching one leg forward to push Percy aside. Percy hastily backed up, not wanting to be subjected to _that_ again, but in his haste, his legs became entangled with the webbing behind him and he flailed a little, panicking.

"Ahh," Arachne hissed in displeasure, darting forward. "Stop that, you're tearing the web, stupid Pretty One."

" _Percy."_

Percy recoiled as Arachne whipped around and, a second later, gross sticky webbing was suddenly covering his mouth. He reared back in alarm, making muffled noises of outrage as he tried to pry it off his face. Arachne hissed, lightning fast snatching him up in two of her long legs and spinning him around and around while he flailed. Just as quickly, she sat him back down on the web and he could only blink up at her.

She tied him up! And gagged him!

Percy furiously wiggled around, trying to break free as he continued to make angry, muffled noises.

"The Pretty Ones are always stupid," Arachne muttered in disgust, turning around and _leaving him, how dare she!_

Percy flailed some more but his legs were firmly wrapped together, his arms squished against his side and thoroughly contained by the gross, sticky webbing. That didn't stop him from trying to break free, though. Percy wiggled and shook and screamed against his restraints . . . It didn't do him much good. He only careened to the side, wiggling angrily as he stuck horizontally to the web.

Finally, after a couple minutes of intense struggling and muffled profanities, Percy slumped against the web, exhausted. He narrowed his eyes and angrily glared at the spider, who paid him no mind. Arachne returned to the spot where Psyche and Percy were caught, humming to herself as she began to re-spin her web. Percy could hear her muttering under her breath;

_"One loop here, another there, tied around the end—_ oh yes that looks nice— _loop around, one more strand, here we go, oh yes what a beautiful web you will be."_

Percy huffed against his gag, rolling his eyes. Please. It looked like an average web to him. Hardly a work of art by any means. Letting the thought go, Percy peeked back down at Psyche. To his surprise, she wasn't alone. A second butterfly perched itself next to her. Almost impossibly, this butterfly had even _more_ colors on its wings, colors Percy could hardly even comprehend, in increasingly complex and intricate patterns.

Percy blinked, a little enthralled before shaking his head. As dazzling and exciting as the patterns were, looking again, Percy thought he rather preferred Psyche's markings. There was beauty in her simplicity . . . and it didn't give him a headache. The second butterfly was trying to free Psyche's caught wing, although it didn't look like it was having much success. Psyche herself was looking up at Percy, visibly anxious and concerned.

Percy tried to make his face as reassuring as possible, which was kind of hard to do when you had a gag over your mouth and were tightly wrapped up.

The second butterfly couldn't free Psyche. It changed tactics, instead nudging Psyche towards the end of the branch. It wanted her to fly, Percy realized. To get her somewhere safe where they could find something to cut her free with. Psyche resisted, desperately motioning towards Percy. The other butterfly peered up, obviously anxious to leave and unsympathetic to Percy's plight.

"Nasty butterflies, still sulking around," Arachne hissed suddenly and Percy's eyes widened in panic.

The spider spot a spindle of webbing down at the two butterflies and they scattered in alarm.

"Make you a tasty treat I will," Arachne threatened as she scampered down the thin line of web, "for ruining my perfect web."

The strange butterfly pushed Psyche off the edge, frantically flying under her to keep her afloat as it pushed her to escape. Arachne made it to the branch just as the pair were out of reach, Psyche crying out Percy's name.

"Just come on back," Arachne shouted after them, legs angrily stomping on the branch. "I'll make butterfly soup out of you yet! Fly away you cowards!"

Percy's heart sank as the butterflies made their uneven flight out of sight, the intricate butterfly supporting Psyche as they made their escape. He could have sworn he hear Psyche promising to return, but maybe that was just the wind and his overactive imagination. Arachne grumbled some more, muttering darkly under her breath as her back legs grabbed hold of the string and began climbing back up. She did it entirely backwards, facing the direction the butterflies disappeared off into as she moved back towards the web. It was rather impressive actually and it did not bode well for Percy.

The sun was starting to set, that great golden orb taking cover behind the rich foliage of the forest as it sank out of sight. Percy watched the river as it was cast in stunning shades of honeyed gold, thick and rolling with every ripple of the water.

Sally would be getting ready for bed about now, checking on the chicken one more time. Would she still be looking for him? Checking the bushes and the trees and the crack behind the sink where he sometimes inadvertently fell?

As the light faded and the river turned ashen, for the first time in his life, Percy felt truly alone.

Arachne worked through the night. She sung to herself, a soft, eerie melody that was haunting enough to keep Percy from sleeping. Instead, through half lidden eyes, Percy watched the spider re-spin her web around his spot. It was hard to distinguish her from the gloom of the night, a careful flurry of movement that weaved back and forth, a stretch of legs and the slow bobbing of her enlarged abdomen as she worked. It wasn't until the dawn starting to break that Arachne paused, her creepy eight eyes turning to the east.

She turned and crawled back towards Percy, her legs expertly navigating through the web. Percy watched with apprehension as she drew closer. What did she want? Did she change her mind? What if she _didn't_ change her mind?

"Sleep time," Arachne hissed and Percy's eyes widened, wondering if that was a euphemism (for death or something worse he wasn't sure which scared him more).

She opened her horrible mouth and grabbed the edge of the webbing around him. For a glorious moment, he thought she was setting him free but, wait, no, she was just dragging him. Percy protested against the gag in his mouth, wiggling around the best he could in his limited mobility to show the spider the full extent of his displeasure with the situation. Arachne paid him no mind, humming under her breath as she dragged Percy to the edge of her web.

"There we go," Arachne said when they reached the very top edge of the web.

The spot was dark and cool, tucked away under the privacy of dark bark of the tree. Arachne tossed Percy into the corner where he writhed in outrage, his muffled shouts utterly ignored by the spider.

"Quiet Pretty One," Arachne said distracted as she spun a little cocoon and probed at it with her legs. "We sleep until prey come."

Percy made an angry hum that went ignored once more. Arachne pulled her legs in under her body, resting on the cocoon she spun, facing him. Eight eyes gleamed as they silently watched him. Percy squirmed, intensely uncomfortable.

"Pretty," Arachne repeated. "Good choice."

Then her eyes closed and she spoke no more. Percy watched as the spider drifted off into sleep, breathing evenly with her mouth half open, sharp fangs visible even in the darkness. Oh boy. _What a mess_ , Percy thought in disgust. Well, he escaped the crazy toads, he could escape a crazy spider, right?

_Right_ , he thought firmly. _How hard could it be?_

The bark-knife was gone, lost in his interrupted jump or when Arachne wrapped him up, who knew? Percy arched his back, trying to pull his hands free. The stupid webbing was so sticky though! He needed the sun to dry it out. Percy stared out at the spider web, the thin strands almost invisible in the rising sunlight. _Or,_ he thought, heart sinking, _maybe not_. Could the webbing even dry out? God, he knew nothing about spiders. Sally always made sure to keep the house free from any webs and their cruel weavers.

Percy let his head lean against the bark of the tree, his eyes heavy. He was so tired, Arachne kept him up all night. He blinked wearily, his bleary vision trying to focus on the sleeping spider. Would it be safe to sleep? She hadn't eaten him yet . . . maybe just for a moment, it would be okay . . .

A blood curling scream jerked Percy awake what felt like seconds later. Percy's heart rate skyrocketed, his body convulsing as he violently pushed himself upright, eyes wide, adrenaline spiking, feet ready to kick out and protect himself—

He wasn't being attacked.

Percy gasped desperately for breath through his nose, his mouth still firmly webbed shut. He was okay? He wasn't being attacked? Percy's eyes darted around, trying to figure out where the threat was and who was in danger.

Arachne wasn't sleeping beside him anymore. Percy's horrified eyes instead found her in the middle of the web, her legs spinning rapidly as she bound a struggling creature up in her cruel webbing.

_Let it go!_ Percy tried to shout, struggling against his bonds. _Don't hurt it!_

The spider couldn't hear him, cheerfully finishing her cruel capture. Legs expertly poked at the bundled creature, which trembled as Percy watched with horrified eyes. Arachne was humming as she crawled back to him, dragging the webbed creature behind her.

"Dinner, Pretty One," she happily announced, tossing the creature next to him.

Percy stared at the creature. It was a fly, trying to buzz lose. Its struggles were slowing down, large eyes growing visibly heavy.

_No, no!_ Percy wanted to cry, renewing his struggles to get free.

"Oh, mouth yes," Arachne said, sounding like she was speaking mostly to herself. She leaned forward and with a swipe of one of her legs, the webbing around his mouth came free.

"Let it go!" Percy shouted, taking in great gasps of air. The spider froze, eyes blinking in confusion. One leg rested on the unfortunate fly, idly rocking the trapped creature back and forth.

"No like flies?"

"I don't like flies," Percy said firmly, shaking his head vigorously. "Gross, yucky. Just let it go."

"Ugh, picky eater," Arachne said disapprovingly, making an irritated clicking noise. "You will learn to like flies."

She leaned forward, mouth wide, her fangs ready to pierce the fly's body and Percy blurted out desperately, "No! I'm a, ah, vegetarian!"

"A what?" Arachne repeated, sounding both annoyed and begrudgingly curious as she paused, fangs just above the fly's heavy body.

"A vegetarian! I don't eat, ah, I only eat plants. No flies, no bugs, nothing but leaves and stuff."

"Oh you're one of _those,"_ Arachne said in disgust, making that clicking noise again. "Well, you _will_ eat flies or you will starve. I won't have real stupid Pretty One. Little stupid I will tolerate, not real stupid."

"Don't!" Percy shouted as she lurched towards the fly.

He threw himself forward and in his desperation (plus his night full of struggling probably) finally managed to tear his arms free from their cocoon. He yanked the fly out of Arachne's path and the spider did a face plant in her own web. Knowing he only a few seconds, Percy tore at the webbing around the fly, clawing around its wings so the poor creature could escape.

"Go, go!" Percy urged, webbing sticking to his fingers as he tore the fly loose.

"Thank you, thank you," the fly repeated reverently as it beat its wings, tearing the remaining strands of webbing as it shook itself free and took off into the sky, buzzing away to freedom.

"No!" Arachne snarled but by the time she had recovered herself, the fly was gone.

She scrambled up the trunk of the tree, as if she could catch the frantically retreating fly. She couldn't, even though she sprinted up the tree with frightening speed. Percy watched as she froze, perched on the end of a branch some feet above his head. _Welllll, this looks like a good time to make my escape_ , Percy thought as he watched the outraged spider. Jittery with anxiety, he leaned down and began frantically pulling at the thick webbing around his legs.

"Oh come on, come on," Percy muttered feverously as his already sticky fingers struggled to tear at the material. To his dismay, they stuck together, the webbing clumping together between his fingers and gluing them together.

_"You!"_

Percy didn't have any time to react as Arachne was suddenly dangling upside down before him, all eight legs wrapped around the single string that held her weight.

"Me," Percy confirmed weakly, trying for an innocent ' _I've done nothing wrong'_ sort of vibe.

"That was _breakfast_ ," the spider snarled, still managing to look terrifying even upside down.

"Really? I mean, it was kind of a small fly and there _are_ two of us so wouldn't it have been more like a light snack?"

Arachne hissed, her fangs dripping with what he dearly hoped was only saliva. He gave a weak smile as she drew closer to him.

"I'm sure we'll catch another one," he tried in what he hoped was a supportive tone.

Arachne seemed to be hard in thought. "You tried to set the nasty butterfly free."

"Ah—" Percy stalled, trying to come up with a good explanation. "No I didn't?"

Arachne hissed louder this time, drawing herself so close to Percy's face he could smell her gross fly breath and all eight eyes filled his vision.

"Pretty One thinks _I'm_ stupid."

"No, no!" Percy said, all the while thinking _oh dear lord please let her be stupid,_ "What you? With, ah, with your beautiful web and, ah—"

"I think you're more trouble than your worth," Arachne hissed, her dark mouth widening.

Percy perked up, "Oh, you're letting me go?"

"No," Arachne huffed, "I'm going to _eat_ you instead."

Percy let out a very unbecoming sort of yelp as she lurched forward, fangs aiming straight for his throat. Maybe she had forgotten about his arms, or maybe she really _was_ stupid, but, without thinking, Percy reached forward and _pushed_. The spider, suspended by her thin but strong strand of webbing, swung backward, away from Percy.

The son of Sally took this as his chance and dove under the swinging spider, and ran for his tiny little life.

"Stupid, bad Pretty One!" Arachne snarled and Percy knew he had only seconds.

He had seen her shoot out her dangerous, strong webbing and knew how quick she could be. He didn't know what to do. He didn't have any time. Not giving himself time to think, not that he really _had_ any, he threw himself over the edge of the web with nothing more than the vague idea of landing on the branch like Psyche did. Arachne's cries followed him over the edge but they had nothing on the sound that tore from his own throat. Percy fell through the air, limbs flailing, and the sensation was a thousand times more terrifying than when he fell from Psyche's back.

He missed the branch. He hadn't even thrown himself off anywhere _near_ the branch. Percy watched in horror, feeling utterly disconnected from his body as he watched the branch and the spider web and Arachne herself grow smaller and smaller, the rush of water growing louder and louder in his ears.

He only had time for a rather stunned, _I'm sorry Mom,_ before he hit the water.

The first thing he was aware of was the _cold._ He knew, in theory, that natural water tended to be cold. Rain was cold, but Sally never let him stay out in it, for fear of him washing away or drowning in a puddle. But whenever Percy took a bath Sally would fill a small bowl with heated water from their fire for him. That was nothing like the river. Percy felt like he was being stabbed a thousand times over, razor sharp icy talons slicing him apart. Without thinking, his lips parted in a gasp and then he was gagging, choking, arms clawing at the cruel, cold water.

He broke the surface, coughing harshly against the frigid water in his lungs. Half a gasp of equally frigid air was all he managed before the river forcibly tugged him back under. The force of the current knocked him head over heels, body tumbling boneless through the black water. He kicked as hard as he could, twisting his body around, arms clawing but he didn't know which way was up or which was down anymore. His lungs burned, his head felt funny. He crashed against something and it hurt, but it was _slimy_ and oh god what was that?

Percy gasped, his lungs expanding and greedily taking in great gulps of air. His vision was blurry and spotted, the world bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down—

The ground was solid. Well, solid-ish, Percy groggily amended as it gave way under him as he twitched, coughing up a great lungful of water. He tried to pry his heavy eyes open, only managing to crack one open a sliver. Dirt. Oh. That made sense . . . sort of. Percy tried to turn his head, but his body felt like lead and every moment seemed indefinitely difficult. He could see something out of the corner of his eye, something long and silver, a strange creature he'd never seen before. Percy gave a weak cough.

Dirt.

Oh. That made sense . . . sort of. Percy tried to turn his head, but his body felt like lead and every moment seemed indefinitely difficult. He could see something out of the corner of his eye, something long and silver, a strange creature he'd never seen before. Percy gave a weak cough.

"T-thank—" he tried to say, certain that this creature was the only reason he was alive. But the rest of the word didn't come, his vision spinning sickeningly and darkness over took him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke, it was dark. Not dark like the midnight sort of darkness, when he was tucked in bed on the window ceil in Sally's room because the light from the moon and stars were still visible even through the homemade blinds that covered the window. Nor was it like the time he got stuck behind the stove because even then slivers of sunlight squeezed their way through the cracks to reach him. No, this was a different kind of darkness . . . this was genuine, total darkness. Percy stared into the lightless void, not quite comprehending. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, slowly counting backwards from ten.

When he reached one, he opened them again . . . and was surrounded by the same soul-crushing darkness. Percy groped blindly, reaching for his eyes. _Ouch_ , he grimaced as he accidently poked himself in the eye. Okay, so his eyes _were_ open at least. Maybe something was wrong with them? Percy pushed away the bubble of panic that emerged at the thought. No, no he wasn't _blind_ he hadn't gone blind maybe—maybe he'd just bumped his head! Yeah, that was probably it. Knowing he had to _do_ something least he drive himself mad, Percy pushed himself upright . . . and whatever he was on squeaked. Percy paused, splaying his fingers out at his side. Soft. Blankets?

He was on a bed! Was he home, did Sally find him? Percy opened his mouth to excitedly call out but froze at the deep inhale. That . . . that didn't smell like home. That smelled like dirt and dampness and gross things left to fester.

He wasn't home. His mother's name died on his lips, voice catching in his throat. His heart plummeted.

Oh.

Percy blinked.

Oh.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself,_ he told himself firmly, shaking his head. _That's not going to get you home to Mom any faster._

Feeling determined, Percy swung his feet around so they landed on the damp floor. He pushed himself to his feet, only to sway dangerously. He coughed, then sneezed, then coughed again until he was back on the bed, coughing and hacking up a lung. It was a sick, wet, rattling sort of cough that brought tears to his eyes as Percy gagged and gasped for air. He curled into himself, head pressed against his clammy knees as he tried to stop the loud, harsh noises tearing from his throat. Through the attack, he became vaguely aware of a new sound, almost like the shuffling of feet.

There was something, some _one_ down here with him.

The noise grew louder and louder and, if Percy wasn't mistaken, it grew _closer_. Percy floundered in the darkness, chest seizing as he fought back the urge to cough, uncurling his body. His fingers urgently searching for something, _anything,_ that could be used to protect himself. He tumbled out of the bed, his knees painfully hitting the floor and he let out an 'hmph' that was quite unwelcomely followed by another coughing bout.

_No, stop that_ , he commanded his body but it rebelled against him and he continued to cough as he pushed himself upright. His body felt weak and shaky, his chest especially ached, but he was a little more preoccupied with the strange shuffling sound of _whatever_ was drawing nearer. The ground felt funny, kind of cold and damp, as his palms ran across it, searching. There were a few cracks in the ground, too small for even his pinky finger to fit into so he ignored them in favor of turning his attention to the area around the bed.

He had just bumped into something large and hard (a dresser maybe?) when the voice came;

"Ah, finally awake I see."

Percy jerked around, eyes frantically searching for the source of the voice. He was met with the same terrifying wall of darkness.

"Who are you!" He demanded angrily as he pushed himself to his feet. Then added as his head whipped from side to side, eyes uselessly searching, " _Where_ are you?"

The voice, which was raspy and deep and so unlike anything Percy had ever heard before that it gave him a moment of pause, make a noise of disgust.

"Right," the raspy voice grumbled, sounding annoyed. Which was _rude_ it wasn't as though Percy _asked_ for anything of this to happen, hello, a giant ugly toad kidnapped him or he wouldn't even be in this mess.

He opened his mouth, annoyed in turn, when there was a hiss and then—

"Ah!" Percy loudly complained, throwing his arms up at the sudden spark of seemingly blinding light.

"Oh please," the raspy voice huffed. "If my sensitive eyes can adjust to the light so can yours."

"Rude," Percy complained out loud, lowering his hands and blinking hazily in the new light.

It was, in fact, not all that bright. The creature before him held a match in the end of its tail, the light flickering in the darkness. Percy blinked some more and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the new light. He was in a room, he realized. One that was eerily similar to his mom's except . . . except everything was _Percy_ sized.

The bed, the dresser (ha, called it), the table at the end of the room with two chairs tucked into its side. They were all perfectly tailored for someone of Percy's size.

Confused, Percy turned back to his apparent host. And almost recoiled. It was a _snake,_ but his panic reseeded as he realized the slithering serpent was none other than a begin, green garden snake. Still, the snake was a good size for its species, probably three to four times Percy's height in length. The scales were a darker green but all together, it looked like a rather normal and unnoteworthy garden snake.

"How did I get here?" Percy demanded, still recovering from his shock.

"Ungrateful brat," the snake huffed, slithering further into the room. Percy squared his shoulders and refused to back up as it came closer. "I saved your life and this is how you repay me?"

"You sav—?" Percy started to say but was interrupted by another coughing fit. He doubled over from the force of the coughs, bracing himself on his knees as he hacked and gagged, tears unwillingly filling his eyes at the force of the spell.

He vaguely thought he heard the snake grumbling and suddenly he was tumbling backward, his back hitting the mattress. He tried to protest, but was a little distracted by trying _not_ to choke on his own spit.

"Stupid, ungrateful brat," the snake snarled. "Stay there before you kill yourself."

Percy wanted to argue but he settled for rolling onto his side and heaving instead. The snake didn't seem concerned by his hacking and he watched through watery eyes as it slithered along, setting the still flaming match in a hook on the wall before looking back at him.

"Wha—what's wrong with me?" Percy gasped, clutching at his chest.

"You fell into the river," the snake scoffed, tail twitching in agitation. "And swallowed lots of water, what do you think happened?"

Percy thought for a moment. "I'm sick?"

"A perceptive one," the snake snorted. "Give the brat a prize."

Percy scowled but the effect was somewhat lost when it was disrupted by a sneeze, then another one, then a third. "Ugh," Percy complained, running a hand over his face to try and clean away the snot and other gross stuff.

He flopped against the bed, pouting as the snake shuffled around. He was pretty sure it wasn't going to kill him or eat him or, god forbid, _marry_ him so he was feeling marginally safer than when this entire ordeal started.

"I need to go home," he all but whined, wishing for his mother's calm and soothing voice and some of her hot soup.

"You're so sick you can barely stand," the snake all but huffed, "how exactly do you plan on going anywhere? Now shut up, I brought some medicine and food."

Percy perked up at the mention of food, eyeing the snake as it spun around, dragging a bag of what probably was the promised food (and medicine but Percy happily ignored that).

"Why are you—" _achoo!_ —"helping me?"

"Because you _might_ be useful," the snake snorted. "For all you seem to be _stupid_ —" Percy tried to draw himself up in offense but his chest hurt too much and he settled for angrily curling into a ball instead—"besides, can't have you dying outside my house, god only knows what creatures you'd attract."

Percy wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything, not entirely sure what an appropriate response to _that_ would be.

"M'fin, I'll just go home and get—" _achoo!_ —"out of your hair."

"That doesn't make any sense," the snake sounded like it was rolling its eyes and Percy kind of thought it was frowning. "But, by all means, fine, stand up and leave."

Indignation flooded Percy's chest and he huffed.

"Fine, I will!" He stubbornly declared, pushing himself to his feet. The world kind of spun but Percy determinedly ignored it as he took a purposeful step forward . . . only to end up with his face on the floor as he coughed wetly.

"That worked out well for you," the snake cackled.

Actually _cackled._ Percy thought maybe he should reevaluate his earlier assessment of the snake's benevolence. Maybe it really _was_ evil. Percy twisted his face up to scowl at the snake, who seemed to be maliciously amused at his predicament.

"I am Echidna," the snake declared, drawing itself up so half of its body swayed in the air. "The Great Mother."

"I'm feeling the loving and nurturing care," Percy grumbled into the floor. "Hi Echidna, I'm Percy."

"Percy, hm, what an odd name."

"Oh _Percy_ is an odd name, huh _Echidna?_ "

"That's what I said," Echidna said irritably, tossing the sack on his bed. "Here, when you stop feeling sorry for yourself there's food and medicine."

"Thanks but I need to _go home_."

Echidna didn't seem too concerned, lowering herself back to the floor, her body twisting and fluidly moving across the ground. "That's nice. Tell you what, if you can walk yourself to the front door, you can go home."

"I will!" Percy weakly promised before he dissolved into a rather unconvincing coughing fit. Damn his respiratory system! Stop that!

"Sure, sure," Echidna's voice hissed as the irritating and not the slightest bit nurturing serpent slithered away, leaving Percy on the ground.

Percy scowled at the dirt, sniveling quietly to himself. He pushed himself to his knees, arms trembling. He definitely was feeling the fever now, the weak and trembling muscles, the hot skin. It made him desperately wish for his mom, for her cool hand and gentle care. Stupid Echidna, stupid Arachne, stupid toads.

_Stupid Percy_ , he thought bitterly, dragging himself up onto the bed. He flopped down, pushing his flushed face against the cool mattress. He squinted at it, the material a little blurry due the fact that, you now, his face was squished against it. It wasn't sewed together like the ones he and his mom made, rather it looked like a bunch of feathers had been woven together until they formed a bed. _How's a snake weave?_

_At least this one calls me by my name,_ was Percy's last thought before he lost consciousness, unhappily drifting into a feverous and restless sleep.


	3. Bloom

_If you can walk yourself to the front door, you can go home._

Turns out this was harder than Percy ever imagined. For one, he was pretty sure he was dying.

"Eh, the water got into your lungs," Echidna said in disgust as he hacked and coughed, water indeed rattling in his lungs as he bitterly thought, _you could at least pretend to be sympathetic._

The sensation of water rattling around in his lungs was ten different kinds of terrifying. It made his chest feel impossibly heavy, like one of the gross toads were sitting on his chest. Sometimes, as he was coughing or even, most terrifying of all, when he was doing nothing at all, lying flat on the bed, it would threaten to drown him; that horrible liquid blocking his throat and filling his lungs as he gasped and flailed, trying desperately to get oxygen in somehow, someway. Standing up tended to do the trick, but the liquid would only slowly recede and the feeling of drowning wouldn't disappear for hours. Sometimes, he didn't dare lie back down, even though his body ached and he was cold and tired and bone weary.

"I want my mom," Percy would say to the dark and his own coughing answered him.

"I think I made a good choice," Echidna announced one night when she slithered in.

Percy, who was curled up on his side with his head tucked between his knees, merely grunted. He listened to the sound of the snake slither around, the scrap of her scales against the ground making almost the same sound as her low hiss. He supposed, after a moment of quiet contemplation blessedly not interrupted by any bouts of coughing, that this was a concerning statement and he should probably ask _what the hell she meant._

"What?" He croaked, uncurling enough to suspiciously squint through the dark.

"I think you're strong enough to not die on me," Echidna announced.

That was . . . an oddly glowing endorsement coming from the opposite-of-motherly-Great-Mother.

"Why is that a good choice?" Percy asked, his stupid voice weak and raspy.

"Because you're not weak," Echidna said, sounding annoyed.

Percy's head throbbed dully and he buried it back between his knees.

"You're talking in circles," he whined, his voice muffled by the damp skin of his thighs.

"However stupid," Echidna muttered in annoyance.

 _"Echidna,_ " he moaned, "I can't think and be miserable at the same time."

"I'm not entirely certain you can think and breathe at the same time," Echidna muttered under her breath. "Here, I brought food."

And that marked the end of the conversation, leaving Percy absolutely none the wiser, thank you so much Echidna.

At least, Percy mused as he rooted around to drag the sack of food closer, Echidna didn't expect him to eat flies. She brought him reasonable things, like berries that probably weren't poisonous because he hadn't died yet and various nuts. Not exactly a fun, varied diet but it was edible and it didn't have eyes or talk so Percy figured he couldn't complain.

His eyes were more adjusted to the darkness now that he'd been down here for . . . however long he'd been there (the lack of sunshine left him in a timeless sort of state—had it been days? Weeks? A long time, certainly). Regardless, he could see vague shape-ish things now. Echidna brought him matches whenever she slithered in, but sometimes they would go out and he would be plunged right back into the soulless void. He had to say, he wasn't a fan.

Right now, though, the match burned brightly in the corner, newly replaced by Echidna's latest visit. Percy munched on his nuts and berries, watching the flame's shadow dance on the wall. He grabbed the little pouch of water balanced on the side of his bed, sipping as he thought.

If he found the front door, would he strong enough to walk home?

 _That sounds like a_ later _problem,_ he mused, swinging his feet out of bed. The first problem, the _now_ problem, was 'where is the door'?

Percy braced himself, jaw stubbornly clenched, and pushed himself to his feet. His head still throbbed, a dull aching that steadily pounded through his skull. The exertion caused him to cough a little, swaying drunkenly as he wrapped his arms around himself. He blinked down at the ground as he gave little, pathetic coughs. He waited as they ran their course, standing perfectly still in the hopes that . . . he didn't know, the stillness might scare the coughs away? That didn't even make sense in his own mind.

Percy shook his head, regretting the motion as it made his vision spin.

"Alright, alright, just one foot in front of the other, it's not that hard," Percy muttered to himself, one arm still firmly wrapped around his diaphragm. The other hand he reached out, feeling along the wall as he shuffled forward.

One step.

Two steps.

 _See not so hard,_ he told himself, body trembling as he leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for breath.

As it turned out, one foot in front of the other kind of _was_ rather hard. He found himself blinking in the doorway what felt like an eternity later, covered in sweat and trembling from head to foot. And coughing. Couldn't forget the coughing. He slumped against the wall, whining as he heaved and gasped. He started sliding down the wall, making sad little pathetic noises as his legs trembled but slowly folded in under the none-to-gentle prodding of gravity. He folded himself into an ungraceful heap on the floor, staring pensively into the darkness just beyond the entrance of his room.

What was out there? What did a snake's house look like? There was furniture in his room, things like he might find, albeit it much larger, in his own house. So would it look like a small version of his house? Or, Percy wondered as he peered down the hall, because he was obviously underground, would it be a series of tunnels and burrows and twists?

"Somebody got out of bed," Echidna's voice hissed. "I see you made it far."

Percy was oddly used to her popping out of nowhere by now so he didn't jump at her sudden voice. Or, maybe that was just the exhaustion.

"You're so mean," Percy huffed, puffing out his cheeks as he sulked. "You could at least offer me a hand."

Echidna's head appeared in the gloom, her tongue flickering in and out as dark eyes gleamed. "Still not the brightest thing are you? I was hoping it was the sickness addling your brain."

Percy scowled, "You are so mean, why do you have to be so—oh it's a figure of speech! I know you don't actually have hands!"

Percy's cheeks burned but he couldn't further defend himself as he began to cough, the rattling sound echoing down the hall. Echidna didn't reply.

"Fine, I guess I'll just—" his nice dramatic little speech was interrupted by rough, watery coughs "—j-just _drag_ myself back to bed. Cold. Alone, possibly to n-never make it."

Echidna didn't seem impressed as he hacked some more.

"Can you do it with less complaining?" She asked irritably.

"No," Percy managed to gasp out between bouts of _dying thanks Echidna._ "You'll feel sorry when I die on your floor."

"I'll just eat you."

"Snakes don't eat humans," Percy scoffed as he forced himself to his knees. He reached out, his fingernails digging into the hard clay of the wall as he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet. He swayed dangerously as Echidna hissed from the darkness;

"Oh, is that what you are? Hm. I think you're lying. You're far too small to be a human."

"'M _human_ ," Percy huffed, his wobbly legs threatening to buckle underneath him as he stumbled back towards the bed.

"Or perhaps just delusional," the snake mused.

"Well, you're just mean," Percy childishly retorted, collapsing back onto his bed. He curled himself back into a ball, glaring at where Echidna's two gleaming eyes could be found.

"You have spirit, you were a very good choice," came Echidna's cryptic reply.

"What does that mean!" Percy shouted but the snake had disappeared once more.

Percy slept for most of the next day . . . or at least until his body ached less. He wasn't entirely sure on the timeline of anything anymore, but he mentally marked it down as 'one day' because it made him feel better. It was then that he tried walking again. Using the wall for support, he made his way back to the entrance of his room.

Feeling marginally less winded than the last time he attempted this, Percy stuck his hand out into the hallway, groping along the edge. Hm. Still felt like clay and dirt. He glanced behind him, at his mess of a bed and the him-sized furniture, before stepping into the hallway. He stood in the center of the passage, arms outstretched to either side of him. The hallway was as dark as his room, but the narrow passage and curved walls seemed more intimidating and menacing than his little room.

He would have to take the match, Percy knew, if he wanted to explore any further. His body was trembling though and he also knew if he tried to go any farther today he would collapse. Still, he took one more stepped forward, not quite ready to back yet.

"Hello?" He called experimentally.

He wasn't sure what he expected, for Echidna to make some snide comment or for the sound of his own voice to echo back and give him an estimate of the length of the hallway. Neither happened. Percy took another step forward and his knee buckled. With a grunt, he tumbled sideways, half crouching half standing as he tried to catch his breath. His harsh breathing filled the space, but otherwise, silence echoed around the strange little hall, quiet and pressing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recovery, Percy learned, was a long and unnecessarily painful road. Honestly, there was no need for his body to be so weak and his lungs so winded, come on now. It had to have been at least a couple weeks since he fell into the river, it was time for the sickness to leave and let the door hit it on the way out, thankyouverymuch. The sickness, however, didn't seem to share his sentiment and decided to hang around, lingering in his lungs, stealing his breath and seeping strength from his muscles. Percy stubbornly fought it though, he wasn't just going to lie in bed and accept this fate, oh no. His mom would be worried sick by now and the thought of Sally home alone, achingly lonely and worried, gave him the strength to push himself to his feet every morning. Or night. Or whenever the heck it was when he woke up.

His exploration of Echidna's house was slow going. It took him five tries before he made it far enough down the hallway that he couldn't see his doorway anymore. A dozen or so tries after that got him to the first branch in the tunnel. Three branches, to be exact. He had yet to traverse down any of them, mostly because his strength still wasn't that good. Also, he figured he needed a better plan than eeny, meeny, miney, mo for choosing which tunnel to start down. Besides, he needed to remember how to get back too. What was that story Sally used to read him? Something about a couple of kids getting lost in the woods and leaving something behind to find their way? Breadcrumbs maybe? He couldn't remember, but he didn't have any breadcrumbs so it was irrelevant.

 _What use would breadcrumbs be anyway?_ Percy wondered, sitting just outside the three-way split. Breadcrumbs would be useless. The wind could sweep them away or something could eat them? What kind of idiots did his mother read to him about? Maybe it was a 'how not to survive in the woods' book.

Still, not much help to him right now, Percy mused as he absently scratched his arm. The match he held tightly between his knees, its bright orange flame licking up the sides of the tunnel and casting his current dilemma in eerie shadow. As if it were taunting him _choose but choose wisely_.

Percy snorted to himself.

"Alright," he thought out loud, a bad habit he developed after who-only-knows-how-long down here with nobody but the ever cryptic and irritating Echidna for company. "So how do I do this? Should I look for air currents? Changes in temperature? Shout down the passages and see which one, what? Echoes better?"

They all sounded dubious and sketchy, even to his own ears.

"Well," Percy said, grabbing the match and securing hold it away from the ground as he forced himself to his feet. "I'm not going to get anywhere sitting here. Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo it is I guess."

He waved his hand around, humming the nursery rhyme under his breath before stopping halfway through the song, his finger pointing down the rightmost passage.

"Mo," he finished and promptly stepped down the path before he could think better of it.

The passage was just as dark as the first one, the same round shaped walls, and was only slightly damp. Percy could comfortably fit in the wide passage, just as he could before, his head a couple hand lengths from the top as he held the match aloof.

After a dozen or so steps he lost count and took to humming under his breath instead. He hadn't exactly made too many turns anyway, he could hardly get lost. Besides, Echidna would probably find him and drag him back to bed if he did.

Sally always liked to sing some slow, soft melody on rainy days. Percy couldn't remember the words, but he was humming the tune the best he could, making sounds up when he forgot how it went, when he realized the passage had changed. No much, but there were . . . there were openings on the wall. Percy froze in place, his humming sharply cutting off. _More passageways?!_ Was his first panicked thought, but the panic vanished as he swung around, bringing the match up to the first opening.

It wasn't a new passageway, he realized as the light flickered across the wall, it was a _room._ Percy stepped forward, intrigued. He poked his head inside the room, match held high.

"Hello?" He called curiously.

Nobody answered him. The room looked rather like his, Percy noted with interest, stepping inside. It was a little larger and the furniture, so similar to his own, were more narrow. The bed had to be half the width of his yet three times as long. Percy tilted his head to the side, creeping up to the bed. He experimentally poked it and it gave under his fingers, soft but firm, intricately woven together pieces of grass and feathers and other such material.

Huh.

Percy rocked back on his heels, glancing around the room. Maybe he wasn't Echidna's only guest. He wandered back out into the hallway and craned his neck. Rows and rows of doorways lined the passageway. The next room Percy ducked into was as similar and dissimilar to his own as the first. It was relatively the same size, with a bed and little-ish furniture, yet the bed was curved and the table twice as big. Strangely enough, in this room, there was something hanging on the wall. Percy crept closer, only to freeze as he realized it was _pelt_ of some sort and he quickly ducked out the way he came, figuring it was better if he didn't know.

"Are you _all_ bedrooms?" Percy exclaimed as he popped his head into yet another room.

"I think you are," he snorted in disbelief at the fourth.

"What on earth does she need so many rooms for?" he wondered.

By the eighth room Percy had decided two things; one, the entire Styx-cursed hallway was filled with rooms and two, he didn't think this through.

"Ugh," he whined to himself as he lowered his trembling body to the floor.

"I just n-need—" _achoo!_ "—a minute," he told the dying match as he coughed.

A couple rattling coughs later, he was back on his feet as promised and making his way back the way he came. Well . . . more or less. He leaned heavily against the wall, stopping frequently to take a couple gasping breaths or to try and hack up his entire lung. He made it back to the three-way fork in the road before he collapsed.

"A minute, just a minute," he wheezed against the dirt, trembling so violently his vision blurred.

The match fell from his fingers when he ungracefully faceplanted and now lay on its side a couple lengths from him. Through blurry eyes, Percy watched as the spark of light sizzled brightly before dying.

 _Great, just great,_ were Percy's last thoughts before passing out.

"So, did you make it to the front door?"

"G'way Echidna, I still can't talk and be miserable at the same time," Percy grumbled into the dirt when the snake woke him some indiscernible time later.

Echidna seemed unimpressed; Percy didn't lift his head to check. His stomach gurgled unhappily and Percy groaned, not wanting to move.

"You only get food if you're in your room," Echidna warned.

Percy figured this meant she wasn't all that upset he was exploring her house. She probably knew the whole time he'd been exploring anyway, he mused.

"Wha' if 'm not in m' room?" He slurred, faced still firmly pressed against the floor.

"Then you better learn to like dirt."

That was . . . fair, Percy supposed, groaning as he finally forced himself to roll over. He cracked an eye open and was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn't totally dark. Echidna held a fresh match in her tail, which was oddly considerate of the serpent.

"I'll get there in . . . eventually," Percy said with a wave of his hand. Then, making 'gimme hands' added, "I'll take the match."

Echidna handed it over without hesitation, her creepy slitted eyes watching him all the while.

"What's up with the like hundred different rooms?"

If Echidna was surprised by the question or bother by his snoopiness, her face didn't show it.

"My children's rooms," she said dismissively.

"Wait, you really _are_ a mother?" Percy asked in disbelief but Echidna was apparently finished with their conversation because she turned away, slithering down the passage before he even finished speaking.

"Of course I am," she scoffed. "Honestly Percy, where do you think the name 'Great Mother' came from?"

"I—" _didn't believe it_ , he finished mentally, the tattered remains of his sense of self-preservation whispering that it wouldn't turn out well for him if he finished that thought.

 _There were dozens of rooms down that hall_ , Percy mused that evening after he managed to haul himself back into his room. He curled up on the bed, munching on the nuts Echidna set aside for him as he thought. He didn't know much about snakes. Did they lay eggs? Did they eat their young? Did Echidna's children slither away from their 'great mother' the first chance they got? The latter at least made sense to Percy, who wouldn't blame them the slightest bit.

He hadn't seen _anybody_ down the hall, though, or any real signs of life. Just a couple empty, however well kept, rooms. Perhaps Echidna was delusional and all her children were imaginary. Maybe that's why Percy was 'useful' because he was real.

Percy shuddered a little at the thought but pushed all conjecture from his mind. It didn't matter one way or another, he told himself. He just needed to get home.

He would try the left-most path next time, Percy decided. _And bring food with me,_ he thought wryly, glancing at the little bag of nuts at his side.

And so the next day, or whenever it was that he woke up next, Percy gathered together the pitiful remains of his supper and, match held in one hand, headed down the left-most path.

The left-most path was darker and narrower than the one he set down the maybe-day before. His head brushed against the top of the path, scratching dirt off the ceiling which fluttering down into his eyes.

"Ugh," Percy whined, sneezing rather violently as the falling particles tickled his nose.

And, of course, his powerful sneeze caused even more dirt to fall which caused more coughing and if he weren't such a stubborn little boy (or so his mother like to affectionately say, eyes warm and voice kind) he'd turn right around and leave this stupid path be. But he _was_ a stubborn little boy so he squared his shoulders and soldiered on.

"I—" _achoo!_ "—really hate—" _achoo!_ "this stupid place!"

He shouted the last part in frustration, one hand held up to his leaking nose and the other tightly wound around the match as he angrily stomped his feet.

"That's it, I—" he coughed when he saw it.

Up ahead, just barely in his line of sight, a glimmer of light.

Light!

"The door!" Percy cried to himself and suddenly he didn't hurt anymore.

His lungs weren't heavy, his throat didn't burn, his nose wasn't even running but boy oh boy was Percy running. He let out a delighted laugh as he booked it down the narrow hall, rejoicing in the dirt that fell in his eyes because it didn't _matter_ he was going home, he was going home—

Percy came to an abrupt halt, the bag of nuts at his side slipping off his shoulder and clattering to the floor as he skidded, arms windmilling and almost dropping the match in surprise.

It wasn't the door. It wasn't an entrance.

He was still stuck in this labyrinth of roots and dirt, of darkness and confusion, away from the sunshine, away from his mom.

Percy sank to the floor, sickness rolling inside of him. The hand holding the match trembled, casting frantic shadows along the wall and reflecting off the dirty, but still beautifully golden feathers of the creature that Percy mistakenly thought was the sun.

To avoid dwelling on the pit that swelled in his gut, threatening to swallow him whole, Percy instead turned to survey his red herring.

It was a bird of some kind, small, only about twice Percy's meager height. It must've been halfway between an adult and a hatchling, a few downy feathers clung to its underbelly. It started at Percy's entrance, blinking its narrow, blue eyes at Percy.

"What's a bird doing down here?" Percy wondered aloud, realizing just how odd this encounter was.

There was a bird, here, in Echidna's tunnels. Didn't snakes eat birds? And didn't birds prefer to be in the open air not buried some odd leagues under the dirt?

The bird looked offended, ruffling his feathers as he huffed indignantly, "What's a little creature like _you_ doing down here? You're not a snake. In fact, I don't even know what you are."

"I'm a boy!" Percy snapped angrily, pushing himself to his feet. "Why does everybody keep saying that!"

The bird snickered softly hiding its beak under one wing and Percy had enough. He was tired, his body ached, and this stupid, irritating bird wasn't the front door. There was nothing keeping him here. Head held high, Percy turned sharply around.

"Whatever, be a jerk," he grumbled, starting to leave.

"Wait!" the bird called, his voice echoing around the small space and it was the emotion that broke through the cry that gave Percy pause; panic, fear.

He turned back around. The bird tucked his head half under one ruffled wing, his eyes twitching and flickering around the enclosed space and . . . and even though he tried to hide it, he lost his bravo in that moment. Birds weren't supposed to be underground, they weren't meant to be in the dark, alone and ruffled in a (literal) snake's den.

"What's wrong with your wing?" Percy asked, noticing for the first time how awkwardly one of the bird's wings lay.

It was curled into the bird's body, the splendor of the golden feathers muffled by the dirt and darkness, but it didn't fold in correctly along the bird's side. Like it was broken.

The bird puffed out its chest, eyes flickering around the space once more. Looking for an exit, the dawning realization hit Percy as the bird hauntingly replied, "Nothing's wrong with my wing."

"Right," Percy said doubtfully, "I'm sure it's supposed to bend that way. Here, let me look."

The bird held itself stiffly as Percy walked around its side. He set his bag aside and gently used it to prop up the match before scrambling up to the bird's wing. It was pretty, even in the gloom of the tunnel and beneath a coat of dirt and, ugh, was that blood?

"It's broken," Percy murmured.

"Of course it's broken," the bird crossly grumbled. "The bone's not supposed to stick out you know."

"Quit being a jerk," Percy said dismissively, patting the bird on the head.

"Hey!"

"I think, if I run back to get supplies, I could you know," Percy made a motion with his hands, "move the bone back into place so it can heal properly."

The bird stiffened. "No."

"Or you could let it heal wrong and never fly again," Percy casually agreed.

The bird was silent for a moment.

"You think you can fix it?"

"Well," Percy scratched his head, taking a step back. "I don't really know. It's not like I have wings. But ah, it needs to be set right? And between you and me, and looking at your non-broken wing, we can rig something up that'll work."

"Or I'll never fly again . . . " the bird looked heartbroken, his young, golden face falling.

"We'll fix it," Percy said firmly. "Stay here I'll be back."

"Oh yes, because I planned on taking a stroll!" The bird shouted after him.

The trip back to his room was long and arduous, but Percy ignored his sneezing and aching chest. He fell to his knees in his bedroom, poking and prodding around to find anything that could be useful. He stuffed it all into his food bag the best he could (some stuff stuck out) before racing back.

Well.

Okay, before making his slow, arduous way back because he still had to stop and cough, or sneeze, or just catch his breath.

The point was he eventually made it back.

"Okay this is what I found," Percy said, turning his bag upside down and giving it a good shake.

"Is that . . . is that food?" The bird asked, his voice slightly strangled.

"Oh yeah, roots and berries and whatever," Percy said, watching as a plump berry rolled around on the floor. "But I found—" he frowned "—wait, hey, when's the last time you ate?"

"It's been a while," the bird rasped, eyes keenly fixed on the berry.

"Right, the whole, trapped underground thing," Percy reminded himself, bending over to scope up a handful of runaway berries. "Here."

He set the handful before the bird before lurching back to rock on his heels as he waited. The bird hesitated, which was impressive. If Percy'd been stuck in a cave with no access to food, he'd make a spectacle of himself scarfing the berries down. Eventually, the bird did bow his head to peck at the food, swallowing them up so fast he made little choking noises and Percy was concerned for a moment he might have to intervene. But the bird swallowed the berries down and no drastic action was needed. Which was good. Percy didn't know what drastic action he might have taken, besides flaying around uselessly.

"Good?" Percy asked.

The bird pecked a little at the dirt, nosing around for more berries and looking quite sad to find none.

"Sorry, that's all I had," Percy said, scratching the back of his head.

"That's okay, thank you," the bird earnestly replied, turning bright blue eyes to the little boy. He looked so grateful that Percy awkwardly looked away.

"Riiight. Well. I'm Percy, by the way," Percy introduced, figuring that was a thing he ought to do.

"Jason, at your service," the bird regally replied, bowing his head.

"That's like the most normal name I've heard this entire trip," Percy said, pleased as he started gathering their make-shift medical materials.

"Good?" The bird sounded confused.

"Yeah, good," Percy confirmed. "Now, how do we do this Jason?"

Between the two of them, they managed to work up a wiry apparatus around the golden, broken wing. Jason stoically took every accidental bump and blunder and only kind of make a cry like a dying banshee when Percy moved the bones back into place.

"Sorry," Percy winced, stumbling back and falling right to the floor in an undignified heap. He rightened himself so he sat cross-legged before the bird. "Better?"

Jason flexed his body, wiggling around the best he could in the cramped space.

"Yes," he said, sounding surprised.

"Good, great," Percy muttered, letting himself fall back so he could splay out on the ground.

"Go team," he added with a little wave of his hand, someone nullified by the coughing the threatened to overwhelm him.

"You're sick," the bird astutely noticed.

"I'm dying," Percy dramatically bemoaned. His stomach gave a little growl and he winced to himself, remembering that Jason ate his supper. Well, the bird _did_ need it more than he did.

"You're fine." Jason was unsympathetic. Maybe Percy shouldn't have given him the berries. "But maybe you should sleep."

"That sounds like a good idea," Percy agreed but made no effort to move.

"What are you even doing down here?" Jason asked and Percy squirmed around enough so he could see the bird's confused face.

"I was kidnapped, _again!"_ Percy exclaimed. "Animals keep kidnapping me! I was just minding my own business at home, I accidently fell out of the window again, when this big ugly toad decided to kidnap me! And she wanted me to _marry_ one of her children, can you believe that? But a butterfly saved me, only to get caught in a spider's web—"

"You are quite small—"

"Shut up Jason, I'm perfect sized."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Do you want me to leave?" Percy demanded loudly, throwing his hands into the air.

He glared at Jason, who ducked his beak down into his good wing to muffle his snickering.

"No, no, please tell me what happened with the spider."

"Jerk," Percy scoffed but settled back down to finish his tale. "The spider. Right. Well, the spider was crazier than the frogs and then _she_ decided to marry me, which is just stupid because I'm obviously not a frog or a spider. But she got mad at me when I cut a fly loose so she decided to eat me. I escaped, only to fall into this giant river—"

"It was probably only giant to you—"

"Jason, I swear, I will come over there and wrapped your beak shut."

"The river?"

"I fell into the river and woke up here."

Percy folded his arms over his stomach. Jason's head cocked to the side, watching him curiously. Percy rose an eyebrow.

"And then what?" Jason prodded.

"And then I found you, duh."

"That can't be the end of it," Jason protested.

"Kinda is."

"But? I don't understand, it doesn't make any sense."

"None whatsoever," Percy gravely agreed. "But that's my life for you."

"There's got to be more to it than _that_!" Jason objected.

"I got sick?" Percy put forth with a shrug, scratching his nose.

"But—but," Jason tweeted, ruffling his feathers. "Why is the snake keeping you here?"

"She's crazier than even the spider," Percy grumbled, crossing his arms. "She keeps saying I'll be useful but never elaborates."

Jason was silent.

"Do snakes . . ." he hesitated, then whispered urgently, " _eat boys?"_

"No," Percy scoffed, rolling his eyes. Honestly what silly bird.

"Are you sure?" Jason pressed anxiously. "Maybe she's fattening you up."

"I've been here a while and I've only gotten thinner," Percy mused. "Besides, I'm a pain. Too annoying to be kept around, she'd already have eaten me."

Jason mulled this over. "Then what does she want?"

"No idea."

They sat in silence for a while then, Percy half dozing.

"It will take a couple suns for my wings to heal."

"M'kay," Percy said sleepily, nodding. "Can you fly me home when you're all better? Promise I'll keep sharing my food with you."

"Thank you," Jason said, sounding surprised. "That's . . . thanks, Percy. I'd be honored to fly you home."

"No problem." Percy's nose wrinkled. "Do you know a way out of here, though? 'Cause I don't."

"I burrowed into the ground to keep warm," Jason explained, "and accidently burrowed right into this den."

"So we can just go up?" Percy asked eagerly, the excitement enough to rouse him upright.

"When it's warm enough," Jason warned. "It's much too cold now."

Percy's face must have betrayed his horror because Jason looked uncomfortable.

"Oh Mom'll be sick from worry," Percy moaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You still live in the nest?"

"Boys are different than birds," Percy muttered into his dirty hands. "We stay with our moms forever."

"Oh." Pause. "I'm sorry. I'm sure she'll be okay until you get back."

"Yeah, yeah," Percy sighed, rubbing his temple. He lifted his head to look around the tunnel. The match barely flickered with life, the space nearly dark.

"I better head back," Percy said sadly. "Before Echidna becomes suspicious and comes looking for me. Wouldn't want her to find you."

"Are you sure?" Jason asked, anxious once more, his good wing flapping nervously. "Maybe you should stay here."

"Nah, I need to go back," Percy dismissed, brushing his pants off as he came to his feet. "The crazy snake will probably come looking for me. Can't have her finding you. Besides, where else would I get food?"

"She _won't_ eat you?"

"Snakes don't eat boys," Percy said confidently. "I probably won't be able to come back until tomorrow, will you be okay?"

"I've been down here by myself until now, I think I'll be okay for one night," the bird dryly replied.

"Right . . . I'll bring more food tomorrow."

And with that, Percy made his way back to his room, considerably happier.

Thus passed Percy's days in the dark burrows of Echidna's den. His breath came back with time, as did his strength. The hall of rooms remained empty but Echidna grew more impatient every day (or, however one tells time under the earth). As time stretched on, as it's wont to do, she visited the little boy less and less. She would leave him food for a couple days before disappearing to who only knows where, and Percy wouldn't see her for some time. He couldn't say he particularly minded.

Besides, he had Jason for company.

"Echidna keeps saying her kids are coming home," Percy told Jason one day as they munched on their dinner. "But snakes don't come back to their moms do they?"

"I don't know," Jason admitted, sounding disturbed. He ruffled his feathers. "I don't want to be here if they do, though—and I don't want _you_ here either. I still don't know what that crazy snake wants with you."

"Your wing's all healed up," Percy pointed out helpfully. "We just have to wait for spring."

"It should be here soon," Jason said, as though birds knew this kind of things. Which. They might. Percy didn't know much about birds.

"I'll leave these here," Percy said, pushing the last few berries towards the bird. "Echidna will probably check on me today, she hasn't in a while. I should get back. I'll see you later okay?"

"Okay, don't do anything stupid."

"You wound me," Percy laughed, rolling his eyes. "See you later Jace."

He took his time back to his room, his feet well acquainted with the way by now.

"Where have you been?"

"Good—" morning? night? "—day to you too Echidna," Percy cheerfully greeted.

The snake hissed in irritation. Then she paused, forked tongue flickering out.

"You smell . . . strange."

"I was bouncing on the bed, feathers went everywhere," Percy said with a straight face.

Echidna let it go, uninterested. "The time has come," she began ominously, "my children are returning. Get cleaned up."

"Wait, they're actually coming?" Percy asked, not quite believing it.

"Yes," Echidna hissed, eyes narrowing. "Wash up and put clean clothes on. Go, now. I've set an outfit out, use that one."

"Okay, okay," Percy complained as the snake pushed her head against his back, propelling him forward.

He stumbled inside his room, looking over his shoulder in confusion. Echidna drew herself up, her long body half off the ground, effectively blocking the doorway. Percy sighed, then resigned himself to following the deranged snake's instructions. He washed his face, then his arms and neck at the snake's insistence. The clothes Echidna laid out were fine, silky to the touch. Percy's eyebrows rose in surprise as he picked them up.

"There, very pretty," Echidna praised when he was finished.

"I'm not pretty," Percy muttered scornfully under his breath. He opened his mouth to complain more, loudly this time, when suddenly the ground shook.

"Ah, they're here!" Echidna cried in excitement.

"Wait, they are?" Percy repeated in alarm.

He could hear a low murmur of voices, growing louder every second. Percy's eyes widened in horror. Her children were _real_ and they were actually coming. The crazy snake wasn't so crazy after all.

 _Jason_.

"Come, come," Echidna demanded, slithering towards the sound.

Percy stood frozen in his spot. If they were snakes, and lots of them, then they were sure to find Jason. Snakes ate birds. Percy couldn't let them find Jason. Before Echidna could turn around, Percy burst into a sprint, rushing passed the startled snake.

"Jason! Jason!" Percy cried, grasping for breath as he ran. "They're here! Her children, they're real and they're here. You—you need to go. Go!"

The bird looked ruffled, rousing himself from sleep as Percy burst into his little hideaway.

"What—?"

"We need to go!" Percy shouted, gasping. "Snakes! Her children!"

Jason's eyes widened.

"Oh God," he said, snapping into action.

He uncurled his golden wings and began to beat on the roof of the passage, at the weakened spot he burrowed through all those weeks ago.

"Hurry, hurry!" Percy urged, covering his head as dirt came raining down.

Jason pecked furiously, dirt falling everywhere.

"Why you little brat, running away like that you get back here—"

Percy whirled in horror as Echidna slithered into the space. The snake froze, her beady eyes locking onto Jason in shock. Then she lurched forward.

"No!" Percy cried, throwing himself between the enraged snake and his friend.

"Go!" Percy shouted back to Jason as Echidna's tale wrapped around him. "Jason go!"

The serpent coiled around Percy, tight but not suffocating as the little boy struggled. He could just see the golden feathers of his friend . . . and the brilliant light of the sun breaking through the hole in the burrow. Jason had reached the surface. The bird himself flapped uncertainly in the freshly exposed air before his face morphed into determination—and he dove forward.

"Jason—" Percy weakly objected as Echidna gave a threatening hiss, snapping forward with extended jaws.

Percy's blood pounded in his ears as the snake's teeth caught Jason skin, bright red beading and rolling down sleek feathers.

"Your wing, Jason—" Percy cried in alarm, realizing Echidna grazed his newly healed wing.

The passage was too narrow for Jason to spread his wings and he hobbled awkwardly, ducking as Echidna struck again.

"Jason you're too big for the tunnel, just go!" Percy called, squirming desperately in Echidna's grip. "You can't—Jason!"

Echidna caught him again her teeth sinking into his body this time.

"No, let him go!" Percy shouted, kicking out at his captor.

It did him no good so, desperate, seeing the pain in Jason's eyes, Percy twisted around to sink his own teeth into the serpent. Echidna gasped in surprise her jaws unhinging enough to let Jason break free. Jason took advantage of Echidna's surprise to wiggle his way through the hole in the ceiling. He flapped his great wings, casting golden rays onto the struggling pair below.

"Go!" Percy repeated, which was all he got out before Echidna's tail wrapped firmly around his mouth and she began to drag him away from the opening.

"Percy!" Jason cried.

Percy vainly struggled but Echidna dragged him back into the dark. _Go, go, go,_ Percy silently bid his friend.

"Ack! I cannot believe you were keeping a pet bird," Echidna muttered in disgust. "And don't you dare bite me again little one or I shall swallow you whole. Look, you're gone and ruined your clothes. I swear. Stop squirming." The reprimand came severely. "Or I shall break your arms."

Broken arms would be detrimental to escape so Percy forced himself to fall slack, letting Echidna drag him along.

"My children," Echidna hissed as they slithered along. "My darling, darling children, I can hear them."

Percy could too, even with the snake's tail half-obscuring his ears. The noise shook the very tunnel, dirt falling down onto the pair. Percy resisted the urge to squirm. Just how many kids did Echidna have?

Echidna dragged him into a wide, open room. Without being told, Percy knew it was the center of Echidna's lair. Six or seven different tunnels opened into it and the room itself was large and circular. Echidna dragged him into the center of the room, where the ground elevated on a little hump. The thundering of noise grew louder and louder until Percy's _teeth_ shook with the force of it.

Then they came, pouring into the room like a flood breaking forth a dam.

Oh dam! _They weren't snakes._

Percy could only stare as they congregated around their mother, who proudly purred with contentment. But . . . but? They _weren't_ snakes.

They . . . well. Percy didn't know what exactly they _were_. No two looked alike but each was as hideous as the last. One of them almost looked like a snake, only it had like twelve heads were only one should be. Another had a strange cat for a head, only the cat had a ring of fur around it. Behind the head was a hooved, shaggy center that eventually ended in a snake's tail. Things only got weirder from there. Percy turned gaping eyes on Echidna, who couldn't look prouder.

"My children!" Echidna addressed and the room fell silent. "I hope this year has found you well. Mother has missed you dearly. Before we feast and partake in revelry, let us begin with the annual marital ceremony!"

 _Annual marital ceremony?_ Percy though in confusion. _What the heck did that mean?_

"Those who are unmarried step forth."

The creatures shuffled around, reordering themselves to their mother's command. Percy wrinkled his nose, an unsettled and gross idea growing in his mind. Oh no, she wasn't going to marry her kids off to one another, was she?!

Echidna thrust him forward, finally releasing him. Percy stumbled a little, managing to catch himself before he crashed into the twelve-headed creature.

"This calls itself Percy. It's hard to teach, a little stupid, but very, very pretty. Who wants to marry it?"

Wait, what? Oh no. That was _worse_ , why couldn't they be incestual crazy beasts?

"Marriage?" Percy sputtered. "What! No! I don't want to get married! I'm thirteen—I just want to go home!"

His cries were lost. Echidna's demon children talked over themselves, hundreds of horrid eyes all fixed on him.

"Step up, don't be shy," Echidna called.

The twelve-headed one stepped forward and Percy thought that was it. This was the end, bye-bye, no more Percy—when the cat headed one snarled and contested. Percy barely had the time to step back before the fight broke out. In his hurry, he fell flat on his back, scuttling backwards like a crab.

"Now, now Chimera, Hydra stepped forward first," Echidna said fondly.

Nobody seemed to heed her words. A third child—Percy didn't even know how to describe this one—joined the fray. Echidna slithered forward, trying to speak over all the shouting. Percy took advantage of the chaos—he was _not_ going to marry anybody. He raced towards the tunnel all of the children came through, pumping his legs as hard as he could and shoving his way clear. He was maybe a good three strides down the tunnel when Echidna noticed.

"Stop it! Fetch Percy!"

Uh no, Percy thought as he ran faster. The tunnel wasn't very long; he could see light up ahead. A moment later, he burst forth from Echidna's laid . . . and into the light. The sight took his breath away. It was spring, which meant Jason would be okay, but more pressingly to the kidnapped little child was the warmth of the sun, the brightness of the sky, the freshness of the air—

"There it is!"

Which was promptly ruined as Echidna's monster children spilled forth from the bowels of the earth. Percy decided to appreciate nature some other time.

"Leave me alone!" He cried, rushing forward once more.

It felt depressingly futile. He was so small and the monsters so fierce but he had to try. He needed to get home to his mom, maybe he could – gold. There was a flash of beautiful, blinding gold then Percy's feet were off the ground.

"Ah! Let me go!" Percy shouted, kicking the air as his foe lifted him higher.

"It's me, Percy, stop squirming."

Percy froze, craning his neck up. "Jason?"

Sure enough, the talons that gripped him tight belonged to none other than his little bird friend. Jason held Percy fast as they flew higher and higher, pumping his great wings in powerful arches through the crystal spring air. Percy laughed in delight, looking down at the growing dark mass that was Echidna's children. The Great Mother herself was at the center, holding her thin, evil body off the ground, forked tongue flickering in displeasure as she watched him fly away to freedom.

"Bye Echidna!" He called jovially, grinning broadly. "Can't say the stay was a pleasure, but thanks for saving my life! I hope to never, ever see you again!"

And then the little boy laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, long after Jason gently landed on a tall, green tree. When Percy finally calmed, his laughter breaking into smiles and pleased humming, Jason was grooming his wings and patiently waiting.

"Thanks, Jason," Percy said, reaching out to nudge the bird with his toes.

"That's what friends do," Jason evenly replied. "Besides, you've saved me more times that I can count."

"Hm, you're right," Percy mused, "so really, you _still_ owe me."

Jason nipped Percy's shoulder. It didn't hurt but Percy pretended it did, complaining and shoving the golden nuisance away.

"Jerk," Percy scoffed but he was grinning.

He could go _home_ now, he could finally go _home_. He opened his mouth to giddily vocalize his excitement when Jason gave a soft gasp.

"Percy, the flowers—look!"

Percy looked.

There were great pink blossoms all over the tree and, as they watched, their gentle petals unfurrowed to reveal little Percy-sized people. As the pair watched in surprise, little people climbed out of their nesting places, calling to each other in lifting tones and laughing. They, why, they looked just like Percy! Well. _Almost_ just like Percy. Each of the tiny persons fluttering about on the tree had a pair of fine wings on their backs, not unlike Psyche's. The flower closest to them opened and a little Percy-sized, Percy-aged girl climbed out. Her face was tan and serene, golden curls framing an intelligent face where wise gray eyes could be found. Jason gasped again.

"Percy!" He hissed. "Percy look! Look how pretty she is! She's just like you."

"Yeah" Percy agreed. "Except for the wings you know." He paused, scratching his wingless shoulder. "Can you take me home now?"

"You should go talk to her."

"Why? Is _she_ going to take me home faster than you?"

If birds could frown, Jason would be frowning.

"But she's _like_ you."

"Psh, please," Percy scoffed. "I'm one of a kind. Now come on bird brain, take me home. My mom's been waiting long enough."

Jason sighed, as though Percy were ridiculous or pained him or something. But his friend obliged (he was an honorable bird you know, and he had promised to take the little strange child home). Jason leaned down so Percy could climb abroad, rather like a normal sized child on a horse.

"Are you sure—?"

"Take me home Jason," Percy said, laughing. "It's time to go home."

Jason argued no more. He spread his great wings and took to the sky. Percy let out a whoop of joy, throwing his head back—but did not _look_ back—as they soared towards the golden horizon, finally heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a leaf out of Riordan's book and didn't include the reunion (yes, I'm still bitter). I also fixed Anderson's ending because having Thumbelina refuse to marry anyone until the last like paragraph when she marries this fairy dude she just met was lame.

**Author's Note:**

> What even is this. I blame Hans Christian Anderson; Thumbelina was partly inspired by his own dismal love life and condemned by critics for its 'dismal lack of moral content'. Bless.
> 
> On another note: Percy's roughly the size of the average person's thumb so more or less 2.75 inches (between 7 and 7.5 cm). The largest butterfly in the world can get up to 25 cm, so a thumb-size person could definitely fit on their back and even some of the smaller large butterflies could hold him. Spider webs do catch butterflies but they generally don't leave the butterfly alone for as long as I did here because of the destruction their wings cause to the web. They either cut them lose or eat the poor critter right then. I pled creative license for my embellishment.


End file.
